Year of the Dog
by forcedInduction
Summary: Sirius finds his Godson. The kids pitch a tent. Xeno finds a rat. Luna drives. Everything was pretty much fine until Luna drove, if you don't count the prison break. HHr romance in 3rd year. Sequel to Nocturnal.
1. A Dog's Tale and other Awful Dog Puns

**Hello and welcome to Year of the Dog, the sequel to Nocturnal. I****f you haven't read Nocturnal, I suggest you click my profile and get caught up. If you like H/Hr, you'll like Nocturnal.**

A Dog's Tale

"You did very well, considering that was your first time swimming." Hermione said as they walked home from the neighborhood pool.

"Right." Harry sarcastically agreed as he buffed his hair with his towel. "Maybe next time I'll develop the courage to go where my feet don't touch anymore. I could graduate from 'standing while moist' to actual swimming."

Hermione poked the self-conscious wizard in the chest. "You were swimming, I watched you. Your feet left the bottom and you achieved some form of forward motion. That's swimming." The still-damp witch insisted, giving his hand a squeeze of encouragement.

It was then that they bumped into their newest friend again. No, not Luna. She was their second-newest friend. The newest was a large, black dog that had taken a particular liking to Harry. "Hello again." Harry smiled fondly as the dog cavorted back and forth in front of them, sometimes running a circle around them.

They'd noticed that the dog always seemed hungry and restless but never seemed to travel too far from the house. He followed them if they left the house on foot, and Hermione's mother once reported that a large black dog showed up at their dental surgery and hung around all day, only leaving long enough to follow Emma to lunch. Emma and the children were now well-acquainted with the dog, who'd taken to sleeping in the back yard. He didn't have a collar, which led Hermione to conclude that he was an incredibly well-behaved stray. Harry was constantly on the lookout for clean scraps of food for the dog. He knew what it was like to be hungry.

One day, the dog actually muscled its way into the house behind Harry, tearing off in the direction of the basement. Despite a thorough search, they somehow lost track of him. The strange part was that he still had to be in the house somewhere - they hadn't helped him leave, since they couldn't find him. The family went to sleep uneasily that night, knowing that they must still be sharing the house with the friendly but strange animal. Hermione checked under her bed twice before going to sleep.

Ultimately the dog did resurface, though in a very unexpected way.

* * *

><p>Harry was awoken by a shifting on the bed accompanied by a sudden warmth against the soles of his feet. He opened his eyes to find the black dog. It seemed to be smiling cheekily at him in the dark.<p>

"Hmf. Where were you hiding all day?" Harry murmured groggily. The dog didn't pose an immediate problem, and Harry assumed that it wouldn't manage to disappear so completely again while he slept, so he decided against trying to force him out of the house.

"Hi Harry." There was a gaunt-faced dark-haired stranger sitting at the foot of his bed now instead of a dog, but for some reason Harry was unperturbed. "I've wanted to visit you for a long time. I had something to tell you, but I couldn't get away. I needed to tell you in private, so I had to give you all the slip earlier. Sorry about that."

"You're the dog." Harry marveled sleepily.

"Yes. And your father was my best friend." Sirius nodded sadly. He sighed, and looked at Harry hopefully. "It's been a while, Harry. I don't know if anyone's ever told you, but I'm your Godfather." He explained hesitantly.

Harry cracked a small smile. A Godfather. That was almost family.

The shaggy stranger appeared relieved at Harry's smile and extended a hand in greeting. Harry was beginning to feel more energetic all of a sudden, so he took the proffered hand and shook it warmly. The shaggy man took special care to wait until he had Harry's hand to begin his introduction. "I'm Sirius Black, but you can call me Padfoot." He paused here, his smile tightening apprehensively, but Harry didn't know why. "The last time I saw you, you could almost pronounce it." He continued. "Probably best if you don't use my real name for the moment anyway, since I'm a wanted man."

"Wanted for what?" Harry wondered dubiously.

"It's a long story, Harry." Sirius sighed and began to tell Harry his own history.

* * *

><p>The ragged man told Harry about the first time he a baby with messy black hair. He'd seen that hair every morning in the dorm - the kid already looked so much like James. But they were all grown up now, and someone had finally given James a comb. "See, Lily?" James chided. "He didn't even drop him! Best Godfather a boy could ask for."<p>

"Maybe he'll inherit my Godfatherly good looks through osmosis." Sirius chuckled smoothly, though he felt his hands shake from the intensity of the moment – holding the child, he was awestruck for some reason, though he tried not to let it show.

"Better hope he doesn't end up looking _too_ much like you, Sirius, or you'll both have some explaining to do." James warned. Sirius Black barked with laughter.

Sirius was imploring his old friend Peter to keep a secret – an important one. Everyone expected Sirius Black to be the Potter's Secret Keeper, but the doughy, beady-eyed man before him would be overlooked. Sirius was willing to forgo the honor of keeping the secret himself if that meant the secret would be even safer. Peter had eventually agreed.

But then the world came crashing down around him, and he was shrouded in darkness and rage. It was Halloween night, and James and Lily were dead. Young Harry had survived somehow, but recklessly, foolishly, Sirius took off in pursuit of Peter.

The traitor was always a few steps ahead, dodging his curses, leading him on a chase through what felt like every place he'd ever been, always apparating just quickly enough to elude capture, though not so quickly that he couldn't follow. Sirius's opening volley had included a tracking charm, and he never gave the rat a spare moment to remove it. Peter could only keep running.

They had already broken the statute of secrecy. The last few leaps had been through muggle London, and several muggles had seen them trade spellfire, but he didn't care. He wanted Peter broken and bleeding, but he knew the rat had to be alive enough to give a confession – no other living soul knew that Peter had been the secret-keeper.

They ended up in the vicinity of the Leaky Cauldron in London - probably the only landmark in muggle London that Peter knew. Sirius sprinted after the increasingly desperate man. Peter now resorted to banishing cars – both parked and occupied – toward him at immense speeds. Precise spellwork had never been Peter's strong suit, so he was stalling by forcing Sirius to rescue innocents. With mounting frustration, the black sheep of the Blacks pointed his wand at a crumpled muggle's foot and muttered a quick "portus" to turn his shoe into a portkey. The poor bastard had caught one of Peter's flying cars full in the chest, and he knew that St. Mungo's was faster than an ambulance.

That had cost him valuable time, and Peter was now a mile away. Sirius threw himself into the void again and came out the other side to an unexpected scene. Peter was standing ready for him. He wasn't going to run this time. The nearby muggles had heard the commotion down the street but had no idea Peter was the cause. Sirius kept his wand pointed at Peter and slowly approached. "Put down your wand, Peter. You're going to answer for what you've done. For Lily and James." The bystanders gasped and both men gripped their wands tightly, though Sirius's arm shook with rage. "You can either let the muggles be and come with me, or I can bring you to the aurors in pieces. It's up to you."

"He's the murderer!" Peter shouted to the surrounding muggles, jerking his head toward Sirius.

Sirius slowly stepped closer, until he and Peter were no more than ten feet apart. At this distance, the fear in Peter's eyes was evident. Sirius's anger was fading to be replaced by a crushing sadness. How had the world gotten like this? James had been more of a brother than Regulus ever had. Lily was brilliant once James dragged her off her high horse. He'd turned on Remus out of fear that _he _would betray them. Sirius had nothing left, and Peter was the cause of it all.

"_Why?_" Sirius choked out.

"You have no _idea_ what the Dark Lord is capable of." Peter hissed. Suddenly his wand arm twitched. Sirius roared a _protego_ and prepared to parry, but Peter's flourish followed through all the way to the street below them, which erupted.

When his vision returned, he saw through the haze of dust that he'd been knocked back twenty feet by the blast. The street was deathly quiet aside from a few low moans and the cries of distant witnesses. He knew the nearby muggles had been obliterated. His ears were still ringing. The next thing he saw was a forest of auror robes. Just before they approached him, he caught a glimpse of a bloody rat scurrying into the gutter and gaped. It wasn't a suicide. He could no longer feel the tracking charm. Peter had bought himself a little time, and he'd won.

Sirius knew that this was the end for him. He'd be condemned for the deaths of his best friends. Maybe he deserved it for not seeing Peter's betrayal coming. Peter had always been a coward. Why had he chosen a coward for a decoy? The ludicrous injustice of it all overwhelmed him, and he laughed. The aurors around him looked disgusted when, as he was hauled to his feet in a body bind, he was still roaring with insane laughter.

He was arrested for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and thirteen muggles. Only after he was thrown into a holding cell did his laughs turn into sobs. Finally, the thought of the child struck him. Peter had taken the boy's parents, and his own recklessness had denied the boy a Godfather, all in one night. "Harry. Harry, what have I done to you?" He moaned pitifully on the cold floor of the ministry.

The next thing he knew, he was in a cell in Azkaban, reliving the horror of losing his best friends every time the dementors passed his door. Eventually, whether weeks or months later, the effect of the creatures lessened. He found a way to cope. A long tongue licking a dull black paw. His fur had never looked so sorry as it did on the Azkaban diet.

Many vague eternities later, he saw the newspaper – the one showing the Weasley family after they had won the galleon draw. He shifted briefly out of canine form so that he could verify with sharper human eyes what he had suspected: the rat on the youngest boy's shoulder was Peter Pettigrew.

* * *

><p>"Makes you mad, doesn't it?" The dark-haired man asked quietly.<p>

"So..." Harry began slowly, rubbing his forehead while assembling the apparent facts. "Peter Pettigrew is Ron's rat?" The question came off as incredulous.

"How long has Ron had his rat?" The older man challenged him.

"Since he started Hogwarts, but his brother had him before that. For years, actually." Harry suddenly realized. "How long do rats normally live?"

"Not this long." Sirius hissed. "But his days are numbered now that I'm out." The older man's demeanor changed dramatically with a clap of his hands. "So, after we find a certain rat and I get my accounts unfrozen, I've got twelve of your birthdays to make up for. How are you set for quidditch gear?"

"Pretty well, actually." Harry smiled and related the story of his time at Hogwarts so far.

"Well, Mr. Rising Quidditch Star. Youngest seeker in a hundred years? Catching the snitch with your mouth? I must admit I wasn't on your level in my first year. And a girlfriend by second year – how'd you manage that without me around as an advisor?" Sirius feigned offense. "Speaking of that, how are you going to break this 'Godfather on the run' business to your lady friend?" Sirius asked, jerking his thumb toward Hermione's room.

"Oh..." Harry exhaled slowly. How exactly _would _he do that?

"I don't mind staying on all fours for a while, really," Sirius began, "but I would at least like to be sure I'll have something to eat. I'll pay you back for the food when we clear my name, with an obscene amount of interest. Twelve Christmases worth."

Harry shook his head. "You really don't have to. I think I have enough pounds for extra food, and Mr. Granger seems to have a soft spot for animals anyway." He paused, and his lips curled up with genuine gratitude. "Having a Godfather is definitely enough to cover a few missed holidays."

Sirius splayed one hand over his own chest and put the other on Harry's shoulder. "Especially one this handsome." He nodded sagely.

Harry smiled and laughed in agreement. "I'll tell her today. In the meantime, I'll try and save you some food from breakfast."

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione walked at a leisurely pace, enjoying the fine weather and holding hands. Harry was particularly enjoying the opportunity to see Hermione in muggle clothing, as it somehow made her look more carefree. Of course, he would trade the fine view in a heartbeat for the opportunity to sleep together again. He really missed holding her at night.<p>

Harry noticed Sirius in dog form chewing on a stick a few lawns away, and decided that now was probably a good time to make his very odd pitch. He nervously rubbed his thumb over Hermione's hand, and she rewarded his action with a squeeze and a smile.

"So, I have something strange to tell you." He began awkwardly. Hermione looked confused, then concerned. "It's not bad news!" He added hastily. "It's just incredibly weird and I'm worried you won't believe me."

Hermione tilted her head and smiled a smile that was equal parts adoring and chastising. "I trust you, Harry. If you say that it's true, I'll believe you."

"That dog is my Godfather." Harry said, pointing at Sirius, who hopped to his feet and approached, panting and wagging.

Hermione gazed at the dog who seemed to be offering her a paw. She did not immediately accept it. "Your Godfather." She stated.

"You don't believe me." Harry suggested, though his tone implied that he didn't hold it against her.

"I trust you, so I believe you, but... I'm struggling with this one." She admitted. The dog sat in front of her, still panting and wagging. "Since when do you even have a Godfather? Shouldn't you have gone to live with him instead of the Dursleys?" The dog barked in agreement.

"There was a... problem, and he didn't have the chance to take care of me. We're hoping to fix the problem, though." Harry explained.

"So... he's an animagus, like Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked, trying to squeeze a rational conclusion from the information she'd been given.

"Yes." Harry nodded, happy that she seemed to believe him.

"Well." Hermione sighed, relieved that things had started to make sense. She bent down and offered the dog her hand, which he placed his paw into. "And what's his name?" She asked as she shook the paw in polite greeting.

"Sirius." Harry replied.

Hermione dropped the paw and groaned. "If you told me that whole story for the sake of one lame dog pun... I still love you, but really, Harry." She shook her head in disbelief.

"What?" Harry asked. "That's his name!"

"He's a dog animagus named after a dog constellation? That's a bit too convenient, Harry." She laughed.

"Well, maybe his parents were seers?" Harry offered, looking to Sirius for confirmation. Sirius let out two sharp barks that seemed like laughter. "Maybe not then. Just a coincidence?" Harry asked, and the dog gave two little jumps. It was unmistakably a nod.

Hermione had stopped laughing and was looking at Sirius with genuine wonder. "So why doesn't he return to human form and introduce himself?" She inquired.

"Ah..." Harry looked to Sirius, who looked up and down the street before shaking his head. "He can't right now."

Hermione looked confused, but suddenly gasped. "Is he stuck that way?" She demanded in alarm.

"No." Harry quickly assured her. "He just can't afford to be seen in public."

"Oh..." Hermione calmed down. "Is he unregistered?" She asked in a low voice, though there was no one near them.

Sirius barked in agreement and increased the speed of his wagging.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand again. "Well," she began, swinging their hands back and forth as they continued down the street, "we'll just have to bring him back to the house so he can change in peace, then."

Harry felt immense relief. Hermione was not working with all the relevant information, but her invitation was exactly what he'd been after.

"He can stay for dinner. I'm sure my parents would love to meet him." She suggested.

Harry and Sirius both let out a small whine. "We might have to hold off on that. And maybe start hiding the newspapers."


	2. Bark at the Moon

**As always, I look forward to your reviews.**

Bark at the Moon

Harry was trying, to the best of his ability, to relate to Hermione the full story that Sirius had shared with him. The friendship with his father, Harry's birth, Peter's betrayal, the pursuit, and his imprisonment were all explained while Sirius took advantage of the upstairs bathroom for a much-needed shower. Thankfully, Hermione's parents would not be back for a couple of hours; this left a safe window in which Sirius could stretch his legs as a human before he would be forced back into his canine disguise.

"So he was never given a trial?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"No, never." Harry confirmed.

Hermione shook her head in disappointment. "That's barbaric. I mean, I know some trials in the muggle government are unfair, but at least they're trials. You can't just go throwing people in prison willy-nilly." She insisted.

"Hopefully when we catch Pettigrew, Sirius can turn himself in and get a proper trial with the new evidence, or the Minister will pardon him." Harry sighed.

"How exactly does he plan to catch Pettigrew? Just steal him from Ron? We're going to have to get Ron another consolation cake." Hermione shook her head.

"What's this one going to say?" Harry asked with a grin.

"_Your rat is going to Azkaban." _Hermione tittered. "We can have the house elves frost a cartoon rat behind bars. That should get the point across. Besides," she added dismissively, "it's not as if he even _likes_ Scabbers all that much. He's always complaining about how boring he is."

"Maybe we can get him a fish." Harry suggested. "I can't picture a fish being a murderous traitor."

Hermione arched an eyebrow and regarded her boyfriend doubtfully. "You've obviously never watched any nature shows. Fish are... well, cold-blooded." She smacked her forehead and snorted at the unintentional pun.

Harry took advantage of Hermione's momentary distraction, pouncing and pinning her arms above her head. Her eyes popped open in surprise to find Harry nose-to-nose with her, grinning triumphantly. "Is this the part where you ravish me?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"I don't know." Harry whispered conspiratorially. "Have I ravished you before? I'm not totally sure what ravishing entails."

"Well if you're doing it right I think I'm supposed to swoon." She put a hand to her forehead and threw her head dramatically to the side.

"That's fine with me, just don't hurt yourself." Harry chuckled, kissing her exposed jawline.

"Young man," a raspy voice said, trembling with emotion, "you will high-five me this instant."

Harry and Hermione guiltily jumped apart to see Sirius standing over the couch wearing a pair of Harry's school slacks and Hermione's pink bathrobe, beaming with pride. Harry gave a sigh of relief when he realized Sirius hadn't taken issue with their affection. He gave the requested high-five with a grin.

"What," Hermione scoffed, "are you wearing?"

"I thought this was how muggles were dressing these days. Are you telling me bathrobes are out?" Sirus asked with great concern.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but found that nothing came out. Hermione decided to bite her tongue. She'd heard jokes about how bad purebloods were at dressing muggle, but she could hardly believe the reality of it.

Suddenly, Sirius pointed at Harry and grinned. "Had you going, didn't I? No, I know this looks mad. I just need to transfigure some new clothes. Can't go into town to shop since my face is all over the muggle news. Is it true that I'm on the telly?"

"You might be." Hermione replied. "It's the most effective way to reach the muggle world. I would hope that my family would get at least some warning about dangerous ruffians like you."

"I'm a lovable scamp, not a ruffian. Get your facts straight, young lady." Sirius chided. "Anyway, if I want clothes I'm going to need a wand soon. I might have to do terribly shifty things to get my hands on one."

"You can borrow my wand." Harry offered.

"Thanks, cub." Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder. "And as a token of my gratitude, I can take the Ministry underage magic trace off it for you. You'll be able to do magic whenever you like." He turned to Hermione. "I can do the same for you, too."

Hermione looked torn over the idea. "I don't know..."

"It's really not a big deal, Hermione. If you got your wand from a licensed dealer, it comes with Ministry's tattle charm. It reports any time a spell is cast, and if they see anything from a wand registered to a minor during the summer months, then you're in trouble. When you become an adult you're allowed to have the charm removed. Or," Sirius intoned with faux-innocence, "you can remove it illegally yourself." He smiled and made a gesture akin to jazz hands.

"And what happens when the ministry notices I'm not using my wand anymore?" Hermione pointedly inquired.

"Nothing!" Sirius joyously declared. "They really can't be bothered. And if they come round asking questions you can tell them you got another wand as a gift from a friend. That's a loophole they'll never close."

"Imagine all the practical work you could do." Harry cooed.

"You could start on the third-year curriculum. You'll be miles ahead." Sirius pointed out with a leer.

"It would be an unfair advantage..." She said doubtfully, biting her lip.

"Pfft. It's the pure and mixed-blood children who've had the advantage. They've had an adult to remove the trace for them from the beginning! Come on, Hermione. Level the playing field." Sirius insisted passionately.

"Well, when you put it that way..." Hermione conceded. "Alright. You're very good at corrupting minors."

"Years of practice." Sirius waved off the compliment. "Now the tough part is getting an untraced wand to remove the trace from your wands. I haven't had a wand in quite some time, and I can't exactly walk into Ollivander's and browse around for a new one."

"Luna might know where we can get a spare." Harry suggested.

"Good idea, Harry. We need to write her anyway." Hermione dashed upstairs to get Hedwig and some paper.

"You look ridiculous." Harry mumbled, shaking his head at Sirius in the pink bathrobe, too-short pants and no shoes.

"You just watch – they'll be wearing this in Paris in a few months." Sirius assured him.

Hermione returned with the snowy owl on her shoulder and some muggle stationery. She then settled herself in front of the coffee table and began to write.

Hermione relayed a summary of Sirius's story to Luna, asked for advice on the matter of removing the trace from their wands, and invited Luna to visit some time soon.

The next day, they received Luna's reply, in which she informed them that her father had always suspected Sirius Black to be innocent. Though, to be fair, he had also suspected that Sirius had broken free of Azkaban long ago and had been playing bass in a popular band for several years, a theory which Sirius found hilarious. The Ravenclaw had also written that she might be able to visit in a few days.

Harry and Hermione waited for the day of Luna's visit, passing the days getting to know Sirius and the nights wishing they weren't so far apart. Sirius, for his part, enjoyed the human interaction he'd been denied so long (even if his time in human form was limited to daytime hours). Every morning, he woke up in the Grangers' back yard and barked joyously at his good fortune, anticipating what had become a steady flow of kippers and sausage.

* * *

><p>Late in the afternoon a few days later, the doorbell rang, and Stan Granger went to answer it. Seconds later, he returned to the kitchen looking terminally bewildered. "There's a girl on the porch with a bunch of camping equipment and..." he paused, trying to find the right words, "an antique keytar. She claims to know you. Says her name is Luna." Stan said slowly as though still trying to make sense of the words himself.<p>

"Did you let her in?" Hermione asked expectantly.

"I was afraid to." Stan admitted, shaking his head.

Hermione stalked past her father toward the front door, smacking his shoulder and mumbling to herself. "Because I'm sure Luna scares the wits out of _most_ grown men." Stan pouted and made to leave the room.

Harry heard Hermione speak from the foyer. "Luna! Please come in, I'm sorry Daddy didn't invite you in. A keytar killed his best friend." Harry snorted with laughter.

"Ha bloody ha." Mr. Granger called out as he descended into the basement.

Luna and Hermione entered the living room, and Harry noticed that Luna was indeed carrying an antique keytar. It was as if someone had taken apart an acoustic piano, thrown most of it away, and added a strap. The blonde girl also wore a rucksack which appeared far too large for her, though Harry suspected that it had been magically lightened.

"After I told Daddy that my friends were interested in spellcrafting, he suggested that you and Hermione might like to see a demonstration of sound-modulated casting." Luna offered, drumming the keys with her fingernails in anticipation.

"Sure, but what's all the stuff on your back for?" Harry asked.

"It's so we can avoid trouble from the Ministry since we're underage." Luna explained. "If we can move to the back yard, I'll show you how it works."

Immediately after stepping out the back door, Luna noticed Sirius sniffing around the bushes. "Hello, Mr. Black." She said, bending down to one knee and extending a hand in greeting. Sirius bounded over and licked her hand, causing Luna to giggle. She stood and wiped her hands on her blue sundress before removing the large rucksack from her back. She then unrolled its contents to reveal several poles and a large amount of canvas.

"Is this a tent?" Hermione asked with mild confusion.

"Yes, but it's a wizarding tent. Do any of you know how to set one up?" Luna asked.

Luna and Hermione set up the tent, both having prior experience with the process. As they worked, Harry continued to regale Sirius with tales of his first two years at Hogwarts. After the tent was set up, they all crawled inside to find a well-appointed cottage which smelled strongly of pine and potpourri. Hermione shook her head in awe. "Are these tents cheap, Luna? If they are, I don't see any reason to pay for a house. I could just get a tiny flat somewhere and keep one of these in the living room."

While Luna and Hermione toured the impossible cottage, Sirius and Harry sat at the kitchen table where a now-human Sirius was quizzing Harry on the outlandish stories he'd shared while the tent was being prepared. "So you actually brewed Polyjuice potion, impersonated some Slytherins, and infiltrated their common room?" Harry nodded. "That's brilliant! Your dad and I had a similar idea, except we were just going to steal hair from some Slytherin blokes, then go in and mercilessly hit on every boy we saw. We were going to call it Operation: Lisping Snake."

"That would have been hilarious." Harry laughed.

Sirius sighed. "We never got around to it, though. We were all pants at potions, except for Remus, and he refused to do it because he insisted we'd go down in flames."

Hermione had been listening, and was also giggling. "You and Ron could've told Malfoy he had a pretty mouth."

"He probably would've taken it at face value." Harry grumbled. "His self-esteem is dangerously high, considering his personality."

"Lucius Malfoy's son is at Hogwarts?" Sirius asked flatly.

"Yes." Hermione answered. "Did you know him?"

"Unfortunately, I'm distant family to the ponce." Sirius sighed. "Before that, I just knew him as the most annoying Slytherin in the world. Your father and I once caught him flirting with his own reflection. It was funny in a sad way."

"Ron hit Draco in the head with a serving plate last year." Harry remembered fondly.

"Just for giggles?" Sirius asked.

"No, he deserved it." Harry shook his head and scowled. "He insulted Hermione and Luna."

"Let me guess, he's a bigot and he makes baseless threats that usually start with 'My father' or 'When my _father_ hears of this?'" Sirius asked.

Hermione and Luna had returned to the kitchen to sit down. "It's like you know him!" Hermione gasped sarcastically.

"I'm pretty sure all Malfoy men get the same pamphlet when they're finally old enough to read: _How to be a Bastard Without Messing Up Your Fabulous Hair!" _Sirius chuckled.

"I'd read that." Luna said evenly.

"Why?" Hermione asked, bewildered. "Are you interested in being a bastard?"

"No," Luna replied. "But it might offer some insight on why Draco is the way he is."

"I've got a guess." Sirius interjected. "He's a berk because his Dad's a berk."

"I suppose it's a bit like studying sharks." Hermione said pensively. "You don't do it for the shark's benefit."

"Sharks are lucky, I suppose, since they don't have hair to worry about." Luna said to no one in particular. She then turned to Sirius. "Part of the reason I brought this tent is that magic performed inside it is undetectable from the outside. We should be able to do magic freely in here."

"Fantastic!" Sirius cried. "If you wouldn't mind, could I see which of your wands is the closest fit for me?" The three children put their wands on the table, and Sirius picked each one up in turn and gave it a wave.

Luna's wand gave him no response. Hermione's glowed and hummed faintly. Harry's wand seemed to fit him best, though, as it emitted a shower of crackling green sparks. "No surprises there." Sirius chuckled. "Your Dad's wand was a pretty close fit for me too." He paused and turned away from the table, fingering Harry's wand delicately. "I think I'd like to warm up a bit before we remove the traces. Don't worry, Harry." He added. "If the tent doesn't work and the Ministry comes for you, we can go on the run together. I've gotten pretty good at this fugitive thing." He grinned and clapped Harry on the shoulder before stepping away from the table and toward the fireplace.

"In_cen_dio!" He shouted at the grate, and the logs ignited. "Leviosa." He muttered, and the couch began to rise off the ground. Sirius twitched Harry's wand up and down, making the couch do a lively dance. Harry smiled at the look of glee on his Godfather's face – he hadn't looked that happy since the morning they'd met.

Sirius let the couch down with a light thud and turned to face the children, misty-eyed and deliriously happy. "I really needed that." He clapped his hands together. "Now! Let's get to the more purposeful lawbreaking, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Sirius had a new pile of clothes transfigured from napkins. He and Luna were playing a magical game of catch with ottomans and books, levitating them back and forth to one another. Hermione was transfiguring coasters into pencils while Harry – the only one without a wand – examined Luna's strange instrument, which had been left on the kitchen table. He pressed one of the keys and was rewarded with a sound that seemed larger than the device that made it. Luna let the ottoman settle to the ground and made her way over to Harry with Sirius close behind.<p>

"Would you like to try it?" Luna asked.

"I don't know how to play it." Harry shook his head. "I don't even know any songs."

"You don't need to." Luna smiled.

As Hermione walked over to join the rest of the group, the silver-eyed girl picked up her instrument and slung the strap over her shoulder. She tapped her wand to a rune on the wooden deck above the keys. "_Vox portus._" She whispered, holding her wand up to her face. A flash of blue light escaped from her slightly parted lips.

Luna then turned toward the fireplace, leveled her wand at the crackling logs, and played four notes, one for each syllable of the incantation. "In-cen-di-oh." She said, holding the last note for a few seconds. Her voice was warped by the notes she played – the _vox portus_ spell appeared to transport the keytar's sound into her mouth. The results were startling: the fire leapt to the ceiling and flared so hot that they could feel it to the point of discomfort from twenty feet away.

"Part of the reason we have incantations is that magic is shaped by sound. Inflection matters when casting, as Professor Flitwick explained using his buffalo example. Incantations don't have to be words at all, but most people find it difficult or awkward to make sounds that they know aren't words. Controlling magic with your voice is a discipline by itself." Luna's wide eyes shined as she called up a memory. "My mum used to cast simple light spells that I could change with my voice."

"That explains why your voice is so pretty. You had lots of practice." Hermione commented softly.

"That was brilliant, Luna!" Sirius exclaimed. "Maybe I really should have been playing bass all these years."

"Daddy once said if opera singers had room in their mouths for a wand, they'd all be demigods." Luna nodded, eyes a bit wider than usual as she contemplated the possibilities.

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione spent the evening learning how sound affected their spellcasting and generally enjoying the ability to do magic outside of school. Hermione asked Luna to visit again, and Luna mentioned the fireplace in the cottage was connected to the floo network, and that if she was welcome, she could use the tent to visit whenever she pleased now that it was set up. Harry and Hermione thought this was excellent news as they'd had fun with Luna, and Sirius thought it was excellent news because he could hide in the tent if it rained.<p>

As Luna prepared to return home for the night, she asked Hermione how she was enjoying her Harry doll. Hermione laughed and commented that it was charming, but that she really missed having the real thing. Luna looked at her quizzically. "Do you mean you haven't used it?" She asked.

Hermione looked surprised. "Used it? I don't know what you mean."

"Oh," Luna exclaimed softly. "I should have explained how it works. I had to have Daddy do part of the spellwork. When you go to bed and you miss Harry, just hug the doll and say 'I miss you.'"

"What's it going to do?" Hermione demanded eagerly.

Luna just smiled knowingly. "You'll see tonight, I expect. Just try it – I promise you'll like it." She hugged the bushy-haired bookworm goodbye and stepped into fire to be whisked away.

**Next chapter: Plushie Harry may not have karate chop action, but he definitely makes up for it in other ways.**


	3. You're the Man Now, Doll

You're the Man Now, Doll

Hermione gazed intently at the plush Harry doll. It sat innocently on her bed, propped up against her pillows, gazing back at her with its button eyes and perpetual smile. The bushy-haired witch had been trying to figure out what its function might be, but rather quickly her serious look melted into a smile. She couldn't help but feel that way whenever she looked at the tiny likeness of her boyfriend - it was like staring into some kind of adorable black hole from which there was no escape.

Dressed in one of Harry's school shirts, she let out a nervous sigh and climbed into bed, deciding to trust Luna's judgment and activate the doll. She slid under the covers, looping an arm over the doll as she would have done with the real thing. Settling in, she brought her lips to the doll's head, fixing the soft fabric with a kiss. She did her best to relax, hoping to prepare herself for whatever was about to happen.

"I miss you." She whispered. She felt the world around her shift, and opened her eyes to find herself staring at the back of a full-sized Harry's head. The full-sized Harry in question slowly turned over to face her, looking very confused. As if trying to prove that she was real, he hesitantly extended a finger to poke her cheek.

"Hello to you, too." Hermione giggled.

"How did you get in here?" Harry whispered.

"That doll Luna gave me is some kind of portkey that takes me to you." She explained excitedly. She drew in a deep breath of Harry-scented air, still grinning at her good fortune.

"I'll have to write her a thank-you card." Harry murmured, pulling Hermione close and greeting the gorgeous girl with a gentle squeeze. When he released her, he found that her smile was gone and been replaced by a look of worry. "What?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's nice that I'm here and we're together, but what if my parents check on us? If they look in my room, they'll know I'm gone. If they find me here, they'll put us in separate cages for the rest of the summer." She finished with a sigh.

"Yeah." Harry agreed. "I suppose sleeping together in your parents' house is probably a bit too much to hope for."

"Well, I'd better head back." Hermione sighed. The young couple shared a parting kiss. "Goodnight, love." She said, creeping out the door and back toward her room.

Harry was settling in again, preparing for another night alone, when Hermione returned, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm still in my room!" She hissed excitedly. Again, Harry was confused. "There's an illusion of me in there, still in bed! I can stay!" She heralded, crawling onto the bed and ripping the covers back so that she could join her boyfriend. "Best summer ever." She sighed as she cuddled into Harry's side, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Definitely." Harry agreed. He drew the bushy-haired witch closer, and planted a kiss on her forehead.

* * *

><p>Hermione was having yet another very strange dream. She was in the salon that she and her mother patronized, and it was very much as she remembered it - perfumed air, strange music, and stylists who were all very effeminate, regardless of their gender – but something was off. The girl who cut the Granger women's hair was absent, yet the man reflected in the mirror before her was somewhat familiar.<p>

His hair was platinum blonde, and styled rather artistically and asymmetrically, nearly covering one of his eyes. He wore bright red, scaly leather pants which gripped his legs tightly. He was pale, with a pointed face and a prideful demeanor. Hermione suspected that though he was somewhat wispy in appearance, he would challenge someone in an instant given even the smallest excuse. He picked his way neatly through the formidable challenge that was Hermione's hair, performing the task pretty much unconsciously. That was a good thing, as he seemed incredibly agitated about something. Hermione realized that he had been talking for quite some time, and finally tuned in to what he was saying.

"…I mean, it's as if nothing I do is good enough for the man!" He tsked, gently working through a tangle. "Last Christmas, I brought someone home with me, right? Meet the parents, right? So _of course,_" he lisped melodramatically, "Father's just _got_ to ask where he went to school. So he says he went to Beauxbatons, and Father just rolls his eyes and says 'Well, that's no surprise.'"

Hermione gasped.

"I _know_, right? The nerve!" The blonde man clenched his jaw and cocked a hip, giving Hermione's reflection a "can you believe it?" sort of look. But Hermione's gasp hadn't been one of commiseration, it had been one of realization. She had finally recognized the swishy young man tending to her bushy locks – it was Draco Malfoy.

"As if Beauxbatons turns out nothing but poofters!" He cried, gesturing flippantly skyward with combs akimbo. "I think half the reason he's so awful to me is that he's mad at himself. And of course it's got to be someone else's fault I like blokes, but never his – no! It's _Mum's_ fault for letting me play dress-up in her closet. It's the _school's_ fault for not providing enough chances to interact with girls. It never occurs to him that maybe I was born this way and that that's not the end of the world, does it?" He huffed.

Hermione just sat in wide-eyed, awestruck silence.

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't let him get to me. So, how do we like the length?" He inquired boisterously, gesturing grandly at her hair.

At that moment, Hermione woke up in a fit of giggles, grinning stupidly and snorting into her pillow.

Harry just shook his groggy head, sighing at his strange and marvelous paramour. "Another weird dream?" He inquired, his voice distorted by a yawn.

Hermione's giggles were just now dying down. "Yes." She snorted again. "Maybe it's a good thing you and Ron didn't hit on Malfoy."

* * *

><p>Breakfast was awkward for the young lovers as they tried their hardest not to telegraph their crimes against decency. The deception was not perfect – Mrs. Granger appeared to have noticed the blushes and nervous smiles, though Hermione's father had mercifully been his usual half-conscious self and seemed unaware. Breakfast consumed, Emma and Stan prepared to leave for work.<p>

"Be good." Emma said emphatically, giving her daughter a goodbye hug. "I might just drop by for lunch. Or any time, really. You just never know." She shrugged innocently. The elder Grangers left, Emma taking the driver's seat as she did every morning, as she insisted it would be irresponsible to let Stan drive before nine.

"Hermione's a smart girl." Emma muttered to herself as she backed out of the driveway.

"Mmm." Stan hummed in reply, resting his head against the slightly open window, depending on the cool morning air to wake him.

"She wouldn't do anything terribly irresponsible." She assured herself.

"Mmm." Stan moaned again.

"I mean, yes, they're probably locked at the lips from the moment we leave until we get back, but is that the end of the world?" She asked.

"Mmm?" Her husband replied with the tiniest of shrugs, his eyes still closed.

"You're just making noises. I could be telling you anything right now." Emma said with a trace of mirth.

"Mmm." Stan confirmed. Emma rolled her eyes.

* * *

><p>Emma's suspicions were only half-justified. Yes, it was true that as soon as they were out of the driveway, Harry had picked up a squealing Hermione and relocated her to the kitchen island, where he tickled her into hysterics. However, it wasn't long before the young lovers heard a bark which caused them to stop with sheepish grins. Hermione grabbed some leftover sausage and pastries and followed Harry outside to find a large black dog cavorting in anticipation of a meal.<p>

The fugitive saw the plate in Hermione's hands and resumed his excited barking, darting into the slightly open tent that Luna had left in the yard. Hermione smiled fondly at the tent and bent down to enter. Before she was even halfway through the entrance, though, she felt the plate snatched from her hands by a human Sirius, already equipped with a fork. Harry came in after her, pinching her bum while her guard was down. She whirled to face him, trying to look stern and failing miserably, instead meeting his smug grin with grudging admiration. "You're lucky you're cute!" She whispered as she and Harry joined Sirius at the kitchen table.

"So," Hermione began. "What exactly is your plan to bring Peter to justice and become a free man?"

"Glad you asked!" Sirius declared jovially, pointing a sausage at her. "I need a favor from you two. I figure that Peter probably knows at this point that I'm free, since there's nothing stopping him from reading the papers or listening to people talk, even as a rat. It's really incredible luck that you're Ron's friend, otherwise this part wouldn't work: I need you to find out if he brought his rat to Romania."

"Well, that shouldn't be too hard." Harry said evenly.

"Not the asking, no. The hard part will be working it into a letter in a way that doesn't stand out. We can't afford him mentioning it to anyone where Peter might overhear." Hermione mused.

"Exactly." Sirius nodded. "There are three possible outcomes: one, we find out that Peter was left behind and we hope he stayed home. Two, we find out he's in Romania without him knowing. Three, he finds out I'm coming and makes a run for it."

"Or option four: we find out Ron traded him for a bag of sweets sometime after the end of term." Hermione said worriedly.

Sirius arched an eyebrow at Harry. "That's a distinct possibility." Harry confirmed with a solemn nod.

An hour or so later, while they were still discussing Sirius's plans for tracking down Peter, the cottage's fireplace roared to life and admitted Luna, who bade them good morning and joined them at the table.

"Good morning to you too, Luna." Hermione smiled cheerily. "We were just discussing how we plan to find Peter Pettigrew."

"I wonder if he spends any time as a human." Luna pondered aloud, twiddling a wand between her fingers. "I suppose his activities would be very limited if he did." She mused.

Sirius shook his head. "I don't think he'd have any reason to spend time as a human. If he felt comfortable as a human, he'd have escaped by now, easily. No, I think he's gotten very accustomed to life as a rat. If Peter wanted to, he could have been to France by now, picking muggles' pockets and getting shot down by French women. He likes being a pet. Being human would put him in danger of having to face what he did." Sirius spat. "He was a rat as long as he knew it was safe. But who knows what he'll do now that he knows I'm out?"

Hermione was stuck by a realization. "Think of all the opportunities he's had to steal a wand!"

"If he's got one, it certainly makes our jobs more difficult." Sirius admitted.

"Oh, that reminds me." Luna handed the wand she'd been toying with over to Sirius. "Holly, ten inches, augurey feather." She stated. "It's the closest Daddy could find to Harry's wand. He says hello."

Sirius accepted the wand with undisguised glee, actually making a little squealing noise as he leapt to his feet to create a flock of tiny birds. Unsatisfied, he transfigured the sofa into a white tiger. Before the tiger could come to terms with its existence, it was gone, replaced by a huge, four-legged cauldron. Still casting at a furious pace, Sirius transfigured the living room rug into a fire pit, which he quickly lit, grinning like a madman.

"What are you-" Harry began, but by now Sirius was clad only in swim trunks, vaulting over the rim of the cauldron. There was a great splash, followed by an "ahhh" of satisfaction. Hermione's face was a mixture of surprise and extreme amusement. Luna had caught on, as she was climbing a set of conjured stairs to the cauldron, clad in a wetsuit and flippers.

Sirius peered over the rim of the cauldron looking very refreshed and damp. "What?" He asked, seeing Harry's look of confusion. "I think better when I'm wet."

"Doesn't everyone?" Luna inquired, donning a snorkel.

"Let's go get our suits." Hermione shook her head at Sirius's antics as he leaned over the edge of the cauldron to stoke the fire below.

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione were settling into the steamy cauldron. Hermione looked around, trying to take her mind off the burn as she became accustomed to the water. She suddenly remembered the Bugs Bunny cartoons she sometimes watched as a girl and smiled, expecting Luna to pull out a bag of chopped vegetables at any moment.

"So once you've actually found Peter, what will you do with him?" Harry asked a very relaxed Sirius.

"I think that depends on where we find him." Sirius replied, taking the hot washcloth off his face. "I'll have to imprison him somehow, maybe shrink him down. It'd be best if I could freeze him in his animagus form so that the aurors could verify that part of the story. I suppose someone besides me will have to deliver him, though, since I might get hexed on sight."

"I'm sure Daddy would do it, but I think he knows the Ministry stopped listening to him a while ago."

"I suppose we could just drop him off anonymously. Put him in a box that he can't get out of, and leave a note explaining why they should arrest a rat." Harry offered with a shrug.

Sirius nodded appreciatively. "It's tempting, but we have to make sure it gets to the right person. Can't have him going to someone who'll just bin the note and try to feed him to an owl." Sirius paused. "Well, I suppose we could request that they feed him to something _after_ I'm exonerated."

"Do you know the spells you'll need to secure him once you've captured him?" Hermione inquired.

"Not quite." Sirius said doubtfully. "I know there are some nasty curses that will freeze the mind as well as the body. Best go with one of those so he can't transform. A strong body bind will buy us the time I'll need to perform the curse."

"Hermione?" said a disbelieving voice.

All heads turned toward the front door of the cottage, where Hermione's mother stood, taking in the expanded surroundings, unwilling to believe she had just stepped into a tent. "Oh." Hermione said in a strangled voice. "Hello, Mum."

"Are you… You're swimming in a giant cauldron?" She demanded weakly, rubbing her forehead.

"Wizarding hot tub." Luna clarified.

"Yes!" Hermione answered brightly, hoping to distract her mother from other aspects of her situation. There were several things to object to here, after all. She was in a hot tub with her boyfriend, said hot tub was over an open flame, and the only supervising adult was an escaped convict.

"I… I came home for lunch. I was going to see if you wanted to go into town and get Thai." Emma said slowly, still wrapping her mind around the scene. "I know Luna, who's your other friend?" She inquired, gesturing to the mysterious grown man sharing a hot tub with three children.

"He's…" Hermione trailed off.

"This is my uncle Orion," said Luna. "He stopped by to see Daddy and I this morning. This used to be his tent, and he wanted to see what Daddy had done with it."

"Well – Orion, you're welcome to join us for lunch as well. I'm Emma Granger, Hermione's mother. I'd love to hear more about this…" she gestured around at the cottage. "Vacation from physics." She finished hesitantly.

Harry and Hermione sent panicked looks at Sirius, who was whispering a spell out of the corner of his mouth with his wand held to his cheek. Harry found that he could still see Sirius, but that the moment he looked away from his face, he couldn't remember what his Godfather looked like just seconds ago.

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Granger. I'll have us all dry in a jiff." With that, he climbed out of the cauldron. The children followed suit, and as soon as they were all back on solid ground, Sirius vanished the water and turned the cauldron back into a sofa. He then proceeded to whip the air around him into a warm wind which dried everyone in a few seconds. The humidity appeared to have had a negative effect on the Granger women, though, as both were afflicted with voluminous, frizzy hair.

Harry stifled a laugh as he looked at Hermione, and Sirius sent an apologetic look to Emma while he magicked himself back into street clothes. "It'll go flat when you step outside, I think." He said with a hopeful smile. Luna pointed her wand at Hermione, and a moment later Hermione found herself wearing a similar dress to the one Luna wore, though in a different color. Sirius took care of Harry's clothes and clapped his hands together. "All ready then?" He asked.

The children nodded and they all followed Emma out the door.

**I borrowed the cauldron hot tub idea. Can't remember who I got it from. My guess is Rorschach's Blot or cloneserpents. Hot tubs on demand are probably one of the biggest advantages of magic, after being able to make traffic cops forget why they pulled you over.**


	4. The Weird Uncle

**I watched the first half of the Goblet of Fire the other day, and it reminded me how awful the original story's romance was. The Triwizard Tournament is yet another event in the books where some Harmony was supposed to happen, but doesn't. I feel like that's not just me doing some wishful thinking; that's honestly the way it should have gone with the characters as they were. Hermione would not have tolerated Ron's abandonment of Harry so well, and Harry would have asked Hermione to the ball, if not out of romantic interest, then just as a safe bet. In many ways, she's his safety net, and he would have given more thought to her romantically.**

**Bottom line: Fanfiction is the gravy to JKR's dry turkey. Or, if you prefer, it's a plate of buffalo wings.**

Weird Uncle, or Orion Lovegood and the Paper-thin Backstory

"I'll just get my purse and we can go. Meet you in the car." Emma said, still thoroughly distracted over finding Hermione in such an odd scene.

"Luna." Sirius said in a low voice as they walked around the house toward the driveway. "Am I your uncle on your father's side, or your mother's?"

"Hmm." Luna thought for a moment. "Best say Daddy's side. That's more plausible."

"How so?" Sirius asked.

"I could see Daddy forgetting that he had a brother." Luna nodded to herself.

"Alright then!" Sirius said cheerily, though there was still a trace of panic in his eyes. "We can do this." He nodded to himself. "I used an Everyman charm on my face." He pointed to Hermione without looking at her. "So your Mum won't remember what I look like, just in case she's seen me on the news. This will work." He was still nodding, though now he smiled slightly. "I haven't eaten out in forever."

Sirius got in the front seat while the children piled into the back, where Hermione cozied up to Harry and took his hand. Harry gave her hand a squeeze and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, attempting to calm the apprehensive witch (and to some degree, himself). Sirius was a grown wizard, even if he did act like a child. He'd been hiding successfully so far. Plus, it sounded like the Everyman charm would keep anyone from recognizing him. Still, they couldn't escape the feeling that it all might blow up in their faces anyway. Luna inspected the buckle of her seat belt with mild fascination before locking it in as she'd seen the others do.

Suddenly, Sirius snickered.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked.

"I just remembered the first time I was in a car." He sighed nostalgically. "We threw James in the trunk and took him into muggle London for a bachelor party. I eventually ended up puking in the glove compartment."

"Why didn't he just apparate out?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"We warded it beforehand." Sirius guffawed.

As Emma drove to the restaurant, she tried to make conversation. More than anything, she was happy Hermione had so many friends, but this did not stop her from wondering what sort of people they were. "So, Orion, do you get to visit Luna very often?" She inquired.

Smiling through his anxiety, Sirius forced out an impressively fluid reply. "Oh, not nearly as often as I'd like. It seems it's been once every year or two. I swear, every time I show up, Xeno's surprised he has a brother!" He chuckled, thankful for Luna's help with the backstory.

Hermione's mum tittered appreciatively. "Do you live very far? But I suppose it wouldn't matter, with magic, would it?"

"Oh, not too far. But I still feel as if the place has a bit of a grip on me. Should improve, I expect, since I won't be going back." Sirius favored Emma with a cheerful grin.

"Oh, you've moved?" Emma asked.

"I've saved up a bit to tide me over while I wait for something to strike my fancy. I didn't much care for the work and my apartment was miserable. Felt like a prison. And don't get me started on the weather or the neighbors." He shuddered theatrically at the memory.

"What sort of work did you do?" Emma inquired.

"_Security_ for the dreariest building in the world." He said with exaggerated dread. "It was like working in a twenty-story morgue, I swear." He rolled his eyes.

"Sounds awful." Emma agreed as she pulled up alongside the restaurant.

The non-Grangers in the party cautiously enjoyed the strange food. Harry had asked Hermione to order for him, which she'd done, requesting some sort of curry, citing the need to try one from a different region. Sirius and Luna had conspired in low tones together over what to get, ultimately deciding to share something with "tiger" in the title, and something else that appeared to be chicken on a stick.

Setting his menu down, Sirius appeared excited, yet somewhat menacing. He bit his lower lip and narrowed his eyes, nodding at Luna, who was doing a brilliant job acting as though she'd known Sirius forever. "I've never had _tiger_ before. I think I'll have to pay more attention to this sort of food if it's all made of animals that could kill you. Adds some intrigue, don't you think?"

"We'll have to find somewhere that serves bear." Luna nodded sagely.

Harry and Hermione's optimism was on the rise as Luna and Sirius exhibited natural chemistry. Luna asked the waiter with complete seriousness if the tiger meat was fresh. Meanwhile, Hermione's mum was asking if using the magical tent violated any rules.

"No, thankfully, the tent's magic is already done. We just had to set it up, and that doesn't require that you perform any magic." Hermione explained.

"It's dead useful." Sirius agreed. "Interesting fact: wherever you are, if you're in the tent, you're in Swiss airspace."

"_Really?_" Emma demanded, fascinated.

While Emma was distracted, Harry masked a whisper to Hermione by taking a drink. "He pulled that right out of his _arse!_" He murmured. Hermione gave a subtle nod of agreement.

"That's actually come in handy a time or two for Daddy, I think." Luna said with a smile. "Something about free speech or extradition treaties. I'm not sure how it works, but it seemed important at the time."

"So what sort of things does your father report on, Luna?" Emma inquired.

Xeno's strange articles made for ample conversation during the meal, carrying them out the door. Luna mentioned that she would like to follow in her father's footsteps and become a reporter for the Quibbler, though she was sad that she could never grow proper reporter stubble. "But Daddy says even if I don't have dignified stubble, I can harness my feminine wiles to mine for information, so it all balances out." Emma just blinked and nodded, not quite sure what to make of that.

On the ride back home, Sirius regaled them with tales of his days at Hogwarts, impressing upon Harry the fact that Gryffindor Quidditch team standards must have been watered down by legislation. "When _I_ was on the team, fans were encouraged to come to practices just to fling hexes at us from the stands. Nothing teaches situational awareness like dodging stinging hexes, cutlery, and bludgers at the same time." He insisted.

At some point, Luna mentioned Sirius's animagus form, which prompted many questions from both Emma and Hermione about how the transformation worked. "It's strange - what you keep and what you don't." Sirius replied. "Some people end up keeping their eye color, some keep certain unique markings. I figured out pretty quickly that I keep whatever facial hair I have at the time."

"Really?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"It's true!" Sirius exclaimed. "Hand to Merlin. There was once a bloke who could turn into a budgie with a handlebar mustache! I wrote an essay on it for my Transfiguration NEWT. Got an E on it. You should see me transform when I've got a full beard. I'm told it makes me look like a goat."

When they arrived back at the Granger house, Emma tentatively asked for a tour of the tent, to which Luna happily agreed. After Hermione's mum was finished admiring the most well-appointed tent she'd ever seen, Luna expressed a need to return home, at least for a little while. "We really should go back and make sure Daddy remembered to eat at some point today. Otherwise he ends up feeling awful and his articles suffer."

"Good point, cub." Sirius agreed. "It was very nice meeting you, Mrs. Granger." He said with a warm smile. "But Luna's right, if you leave Xeno alone too long, you never know what he'll get into."

"Call me Emma, please. And I really do wish the two of you could join us for dinner, as well. You could invite your father, Luna, if he has the time." Emma offered.

Sirius had grown tired of sausage just in time for his stomach to return to a healthy size. Dinner was an offer he could not refuse. "That sounds brilliant." He said with a large grin.

"Uncle Orion" and Luna went home for a bit. Presumably, anyway. Neither Harry nor Hermione knew for sure. The things they did know for sure were that Sirius was a brilliant method actor and that Luna could weave falsehoods and whimsy like she was writing a spy novel.

While Sirius and Luna were away, Harry and Hermione were free for some time to do as they pleased. They took a walk around the neighborhood, sometimes sharing their amazement over the quality of Sirius's illusion, sometimes merely holding hands and enjoying each other's company. Stops were made in secluded hedges, embraces were shared, and ticklish spots were exploited.

Eventually, the young couple returned home to find Mrs. Granger starting dinner. "Hermione, could you and Harry please start a loaf of bread?" She asked.

Hermione only looked mildly peeved – her chores were few and far between, so she tried to avoid complaining when one arose. She released Harry's hand and went to get herself an apron. Harry stuck around while his girlfriend worked, offering help wherever he could. Hermione wanted to get Harry more accustomed to initiating contact, so she requested that he wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she worked. It took Hermione longer than usual to get the bread ready and into the oven, but she didn't care. She always welcomed contact with Harry, and for some reason, the feeling of his arms wrapped around her while she kneaded the dough was particularly evocative. She hoped that the same scene could occur in 10 years, in a home of their own – perhaps a nice tent in London.

Stan Granger returned from work to an empty house. His wife was nowhere to be found and Hermione was not in her room. This prompted him to immediately check the guest room, flinging the door open expectantly and lunging over the threshold, finger outstretched and ready to accuse, but it too was empty. He wandered downstairs to the kitchen and noticed the bread in the oven. Losing track of his wife was not uncommon, as he knew Emma occasionally read in the back yard, but there was no sound of merriment from the children. If the young couple was engaged in talking or laughing, they would be physically unable to kiss. As a result, the silence worried him.

His worry turned to confusion, however, when he looked out the kitchen window into the back yard and saw Harry, Hermione, and Emma enjoying a Frisbee with a strange man and the blonde girl from the other day. His confusion deepened when the stranger turned into a dog, bounding across the yard to catch the Frisbee, and then returning it to his wife, who scratched him behind the ears, eliciting a bout of excited barking.

Stan stepped outside.

"So, it's finally happened." He said morosely. He stood on the patio, eyes downcast, his face contorted in a tortured grimace. "You've replaced me with someone who's more interesting and handsome, and is also a dog. It's my nightmare come true." He heaved a sigh and hung his head in resignation.

Harry could have sworn she even saw his chin trembling. He was really committing.

"Daddy-" Hermione giggled, but she was cut off.

"Don't try to console me!" Stan cried melodramatically. "Yes, it'll tickle when he licks you. Yes, he'll bring you the paper. But know this! When he poops on the rug, you'll miss Stan." He then pointed at his wife. "When he humps your leg instead of… the other thing, you'll miss Stan."

A bright red Emma stared her husband down, attempting to look menacing while battling extreme embarrassment. "_Stan,_ this is Luna's uncle Orion." She gestured to Sirius, who was actually rolling on the ground laughing. "He's not my new love interest. _That_ gentleman can turn into a-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Stan yelled in alarm, putting his hands over his ears.

Sirius finally got to his feet and approached Stan. "Orion Lovegood." He offered his hand in greeting. "Pleased to meet you, though I must say you wound me. I know where to poop and where to hump, and I haven't gotten them mixed up in _years._" He boasted.

"Good to know." Stan chuckled, shaking Sirius's hand.

"Luna and Orion are joining us for dinner." Emma explained.

"Let me guess: something bone-in?" Stan stage-whispered, discreetly pointing at Sirius.

"Pasta." She replied with a sigh.

After dinner, the children and Sirius adjourned to the tent cottage, where they played exploding snap and celebrated their perfect deception. Sirius explained that he would actually be going home with Luna to talk to Xeno about his plans to hunt down Peter Pettigrew.

"Xeno actually had an excellent idea when I talked to him after lunch. I told him I needed a way to hunt a rat animagus, and he started going off about tracking him by his magical signature. Well, I've never known anybody who could track someone that way, save maybe Dumbledore, so we started asking ourselves what else we could use. So we finally figured it out: a lethifold!" He cried triumphantly.

"A what?" Hermione asked flatly.

"It's an incredibly nasty creature that hunts by sensing the magic in other animals. Usually humans." Oddly that didn't seem to concern him.

"Imagine a stealthy, pitch-black blanket that seeks out sleeping humans in the tropics and, by some method we don't fully understand, devours them whole in their sleep." Luna clarified. "Daddy knows where we might be able to find one." She added brightly.

"You're going to use some kind of man-eating blanket to hunt a traitorous rat?" Harry demanded, rubbing his forehead. He paused and blinked. "I bet nobody's ever said that before." He muttered.

"Yes!" Sirius exclaimed. "Of course, we'd have to get something with his magic on it so that the lethifold can get his scent. I have some ideas on that, but we can worry about that later."

Hermione nodded hesitantly. "It sounds plausible. And I suppose it helps that he'll probably be the only magical rat for miles around."

"Unless, of course, the lethifold leads us to a pet store." Luna admitted. "But then I suppose we could just figure out which rat was missing a toe. Although, we might get thrown out of the pet store for bringing a lethifold in." She frowned.

"Sure." Sirius agreed, waving it off as unimportant. "That reminds me – one or both of you need to write Ron." He gestured seriously at Harry and Hermione.

"We'll do it tonight." Hermione nodded, giving Harry's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Good. Well, I think I'm going to head back to the tower and talk to Xeno for a bit, then head to bed." He paused, and his voice trembled with awe. "Where I will sleep on a full stomach. Living the dream." He grinned toothily. Sirius hugged Harry goodnight, and turned toward the fireplace, but found Luna blocking his path.

"Goodnight, fake uncle." She sighed, hugging Sirius.

"Goodnight, fake niece." Sirius chuckled, giving her a squeeze before crossing to the fireplace and tossing in a handful of Floo powder. "Moon's Roost." He called out, and the emerald flames whipped him out of sight.

Hermione smiled at the Floo address for the Lovegood home, but then turned to Luna curiously. "You live in a tower?" She inquired.

"Oh, yes. It's very nice. Every room is cozy, the view from the roof is better, there are lots of stairs, and it's easier to spot from a distance. I don't think I could live in a house after living in a tower." She shook her head hopelessly.

"I wanted to thank you for the doll, Luna. I tried it last night, and it's brilliant!" She said with a slight blush. "But I was wondering how it works. There's more than one component, isn't there?"

"Oh yes," Luna confirmed. "There's the portkey anchored to Harry, which also creates an anchor wherever it's activated. Then there's the snapshot illusion it creates of you in bed, and finally there's the very selective notice-me-not charm that's activated when you're afraid of being seen. Daddy did everything but the snapshot illusion."

"It really is amazing." Hermione reiterated with a smile. "Please tell him how much we – wait, did you tell him what this was for?" The bookworm now appeared perplexed.

"Yes." Luna nodded. "He was rather curious when I explained what the doll needed to do."

"And he was alright with us using it to sleep together without getting caught?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes. Daddy said that if you were both smart, you've probably earned it." Luna explained.

"I'm not _that_ smart." Harry mumbled in surprise.

"Daddy said if you were smart enough to be my friends, you were both smart enough to sleep together. Though frankly I think he would have done it anyway just for the challenge." Luna admitted.

Harry turned to Hermione. "Am I the only one who's grateful for the sudden increase in not-very-responsible adults in our lives?"

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged with a wan smile. "I'm a bit worried the next one will offer us heroin or something."

"Is that some kind of dessert?" Luna asked curiously.

**As always, I love reading your reviews. If you want an "aww" moment, check out my profile. I added an avatar.**

**I considered making Sirius's animagus form remain a secret to Hermione's parents, but that was after I'd already written Stan's first impression of him. I really couldn't bear to throw that away.**

**Pretty sure I borrowed the Luna and stubble joke from Rorschach's Blot.**


	5. Rat Season

**Sorry for the delay. All the ideas I've been having lately are for the 4****th**** and 5****th**** years at Hogwarts, and while they're awesome ideas, they don't help me right now.**

Rat Season, or White-collar Resort Prison

Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Sirius all sat around the tiny kitchen table in the Lovegoods' tower home watching moths and fireflies flitting outside the window. Harry and Hermione had been granted permission to visit Luna's faraway home on the condition that they be back at a reasonable hour, and with the assurance that "Orion" would be around to keep an eye on them. The three children had enjoyed long walks through the vast fields surrounding the tower, and even explored the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

The subtle probe in the young couple's letter to Ron revealed that Peter had indeed joined the Weasleys for their trip to Romania. When Harry and Hermione relayed this news to Sirius, he sighed.

"I don't think we can rely on him coming back. If he knows I'm onto him, Romania is a golden opportunity for him. Nobody knows him there, and he could easily get away from Ron and disappear for good. Nobody's going to investigate a young boy losing his rat on vacation." Sirius rubbed his temples. "I think this means I'm going to Romania."

"How will you get there?" Hermione asked worriedly. "Nobody here would sell you an international portkey, and that's a long way to go by broom."

"Couldn't he just apparate?" Harry asked, confused.

Hermione shook her head. "That would be very risky. Apparition depends on you knowing your destination intimately, and I don't think Sirius has ever been to Romania." She theorized, glancing at Sirius for confirmation.

"Not that I can recall, no." He frowned. "I've never even set foot on the continent, actually. Furthest I've been from England was Hogwarts."

"Daddy and I have been to the magical district in Paris before. I suppose we could take you that far, and from there you could catch a portkey to Romania. But what will you do when you get there?" Luna inquired.

"Well, I'm guessing Romania's not exactly covered in dragon reserves. First thing I'll do is find the reserve they're visiting. I suppose after that, I'll have to sneak into Ron's room at the hotel and capture Peter without getting caught or letting him transform. Then I'll probably apparate back to France, then back here, to keep the distance manageable." Sirius said uncertainly.

A bleary-eyed Xenophilius Lovegood descended the spiral staircase into the kitchen with the intent of grabbing a glass of water and wishing his daughter goodnight. Sirius gazed at him pensively for a moment. "Hey Xeno, want to go to Romania?"

Xeno appeared to consider the question as he sipped the cool water. "Why?" He asked.

"To track down Peter Pettigrew. I'd feel more comfortable with backup, and you could apparate us to France." Xeno appeared uninterested. "But we could probably stop by a dragon reserve." Sirius offered in a tantalizing tone, clearly thinking it would interest the cryptozoologist in the elder Lovegood.

"Dragons?" Xeno repeated. "Bit mundane." He sighed.

"But the Quibbler would have exclusive coverage of the capture of a mass murderer, Daddy. Don't forget that." Luna reminded him.

"Mmm." Xeno agreed. "Right, sounds good." He nodded with his eyes closed. He shuffled toward Luna's seat and hugged her to his waist. "Will you be alright alone tomorrow, sweetheart?" He asked, stroking her hair sleepily.

"I'll be fine, Daddy. I'll order pizza from the village again." She returned her father's hug.

"That's an excellent idea. If you get pepperoni, save me a slice." Xeno gave his daughter one last squeeze. "Goodnight, Little Moon. Sweet dreams." With that, he shuffled back up the spiral staircase to his bedroom.

"Goodnight, Daddy." Luna yawned.

"So you and Xeno will leave in the morning?" Harry asked.

"I think so. Can't afford to waste any time." He answered. Harry and Hermione looked worried. "I'll be fine. I've got a good wand now, and Xeno will be watching my back. If we can't find the Weasleys, we won't linger, we'll just come back home. The trip shouldn't take more than two days."

"Just promise you'll be careful. Romania's a long way to go, but someone there might still know who you are." Hermione pleaded.

"I'll be careful, I promise." He conceded. "So how bad is Paris, Luna? I've heard it's full of mimes. I can handle dementors, but I draw the line at mimes."

Luna waved off Sirius's worries. "The key is to avoid eye contact, and if one approaches you, just sob hysterically until they lose interest. That's what Daddy taught me, and it worked quite well. He said the same principle applies to salesmen."

Eventually, Harry and Hermione bade Sirius goodnight and good luck before returning home for the night.

Three days later, Sirius and Xeno had not returned.

On the second day, Luna came through the tent's fireplace with a sack of galleons. "Daddy and Sirius aren't back yet, and I've grown a bit bored with pizza. Do you think we could go find some food in town?" She inquired, fingering the sack of galleons nervously. Hermione told Luna she could put her galleons away and that they would make sandwiches instead. She sensed that Luna was worried. Her eyes were not as wide as usual and her tone was flat, devoid of its usual melodiousness.

As Hermione got the bread out of the cupboard, she felt Harry's arms encircle her from behind, and turned to find his eyes dark with worry. "Sirius escaped Azkaban, and Luna's father is a veteran traveler, Harry. I'm sure they're fine." She murmured before turning in his arms to embrace him.

"Is this what people mean when they say a sandwich was made with love?" Luna asked curiously as she watched them over the breakfast bar.

Harry and Hermione each let out a breath, their laughter mingling in the few inches of air between them.

The three children spent the afternoon seeking diversion from their worries. They made sandwiches with a staggering diversity of ingredients, they toured Hermione's neighborhood, and when the sun grew oppressively hot they retired to the tent where they conjured snow for a snowball fight, made ice thrones, and put on terrible plays using enchanted puppets. Their activities, though fun, never completely overpowered the gloom and doubt surrounding the well-being of Sirius and Xeno.

During a waterlogged and poorly-choreographed interpretation of Little Red Riding Hood (in which Red, played by Luna, seemed to have a thing for crossdressing older men), Hedwig popped into the tent with a letter in her talons.

Harry appeared confused, knowing he hadn't sent a letter, and then his eyes grew wide. "It must be from Sirius!" He exclaimed, and attempted to tear it off of Hedwig, who ignored the rough treatment and instead flew to Luna, fixing her master with a doleful gaze while the silver-eyed girl removed the letter and read it aloud.

"_Luna,_

_In Romanian prison because I didn't have the right papers for the trip, and something about traveling with a man fitting the description of an escaped convict. If you have time, send help. Maybe ask your Uncle Orion if he could swing by and break me out. If you saved me a slice of pepperoni, you should probably eat it. If you run out of pizza money, there's more under my mattress._

_Love,_

_Dad"_

Harry and Hermione looked on in horrified silence while Luna slowly folded the letter back up and tucked it into her pocket. "Well, it's not all bad news." She offered. Her friends stared at her in disbelief. "I didn't get pepperoni, and I already got the mattress fund." She clarified, patting the sack of coins.

* * *

><p>The trio immediately sent Sirius a letter asking him what had happened to Xeno and how they'd gotten separated. They tried to stay positive as they waited for a response.<p>

When Emma and Stan returned home from work, Hermione immediately cornered her mother and explained that both Xeno and "Orion" had been detained while traveling, as Xeno had lost his passport, which might have been mostly technically true. Emma didn't hesitate to offer Luna both an invitation to dinner and a place to stay while her father was away. When Stan noticed the three children piling blankets on the living room floor later that evening, he was confused and approached his wife for an explanation.

"Did we get another one?" He inquired.

"What?" Emma cocked her head, mirroring his confusion.

"Another kid. Is Luna going to spend the night?" He asked.

"Oh, yes. Her father and Orion are stuck in Romania while they get a passport problem sorted out." She explained.

Stan leaned around the doorframe separating the living room from the kitchen, and found Hermione and Luna building a pillow fort around Harry, who looked happily resigned to his fate.

"I'm fine with all this generosity, but if we keep taking in children like this, shouldn't we be getting some kind of stipend?" He asked playfully.

Emma chuckled. "Actually, Luna tried to offer me what she called the 'mattress fund' for taking care of her until her father gets back."

"What's a mattress fund?" Stan mumbled.

"Apparently a good-sized sack of gold." Emma shrugged.

"They were saving _gold_ for a mattress? Must have been a hell of a mattress." Stan said wistfully, watching Harry and Luna roll Hermione up in a blanket like a burrito.

"They were galleons, and I don't think it's that kind of mattress fund." Emma tittered.

"Imagine the kind of mattress you could get with a sack of gold, though. You could get one filled with bald eagle down and wrapped in Siberian tiger pelts, or just fill a waterbed with champagne." Stan declared with awe.

Emma just shook her head and smiled at her strange husband. It was the sort of smile one would give a child with a bucket on its head.

"See, I was right when I said we didn't need a ton of kids. You didn't have to go through labor more than once, we've only paid for 13 years worth of kid, and here we are with three kids. This is more efficient. Some people pay for this kind of entertainment." Stan said smugly, gesturing at Luna, who was making dinosaur noises and destroying the cushion fortress while Harry attempted to stop her by wrapping her in blankets.

Hours later, the three children were asleep on the tangle of blankets and pillows they'd arranged on the floor. Harry and Hermione had begun the night as the bread in a Luna sandwich, but as Hermione heard her parents retire for the evening, she'd quietly gotten up and moved next to Harry, assuming she would wake early enough to avoid being seen by her parents.

Harry was awoken by the sensation of talons on his chest. He found himself face-to-face with Hedwig, who eyed him expectantly. "Sorry." He mumbled, and moved to take the letter from her claws. In moving, he found his progress impeded by an arm draped over his own. He froze, recalling that Luna had been next to him in order to placate Hermione's parents. He relaxed his arm and drew in a deep breath through his nose. Books and flowers – Hermione had moved. He breathed a sigh of relief and reached under his pillow, retrieving his wand. "Lumos." He whispered, willing the light to be weak so that he wouldn't wake the girls.

Harry took the letter from Hedwig and read it in the dim wandlight.

"_Dear Harry,_

_Don't know why Xeno thought I could help. He's right next to me. We were picked up by Romanian aurors a few hours after we arrived in Bucharest. Try not to worry. I have this prison thing down to a science, and this place is a resort compared to Azkaban – they serve meat here! I'm pretty sure we're only allowed one letter, so you three take care of each other until we get out. If we're still here by September, have a good school year._

_Love,_

_Padfoot"_

Harry folded the letter back up and closed his eyes, which had started to leak. He hoped very much that he was dreaming. Hedwig clucked softly, as if she knew that the situation was dire. Harry stroked the snowy owl's neck, and she remained for a few moments, trying to provide some comfort. Eventually, Harry fell back into a fitful sleep, and his familiar left, biting him lightly on the nose and departing through the chimney.

* * *

><p>Harry was staring at the underside of a smelly cot, listening to a mournful harmonica melody from some unknown source. Slowly, he sat up and surveyed his surroundings, which turned out to be a bit squalid. "Austere" was perhaps a polite enough word to describe the tiny cell, but squalid was more honest.<p>

Xenophilius Lovegood sat across from him on a bench which was fused to the wall, and he appeared to be doing a crossword puzzle. Rather than his usual wizard robes, he wore an orange jumpsuit with the sleeves torn off. Around his head was a red paisley bandana, and on one of his biceps, Harry could make out "_Luna_" tattooed in bold, joined letters.

The music tapered off into silence, and was replaced by a voice from the cot above. "You know, I'm really sick of prison." Harry recognized the voice as Sirius's, and two feet soon dangled in front of his face, clad in prison-issue canvas shoes.

Xeno rolled his eyes. "I think that's the point of prison." He muttered.

"I thought the point was to keep me where I couldn't seduce the wives and daughters of various nobles?" Sirius said thoughtfully, jumping down from his perch and turning to face Harry with a smile. He wore no shirt with his loose-fitting orange pants, instead choosing to display his massive, chest-spanning dragon tattoo the way it deserved. His expression grew sympathetic. "You miss her, Harry?"

"Hermione?" Harry heard himself reply. "Of course. But she'll break us out soon, no problem." He spoke with great confidence, which was odd, considering wasn't feeling very confident about anything.

"Are you sure?" Sirius inquired. "I mean, it's been three days. If we run out of fingerpaint, I might have to bleed one of you chaps dry to make more, and then I'll have a _legitimate _murder charge_."_ He shuddered, dipping into said fingerpaint to touch up his dragon's wingtips.

"She'll come. Knowing her, she'll spend tonight finalizing the plan if she hasn't already. I expect she'll show up tomorrow morning with breakfast and a wrecking ball." He laughed.

"For all our sakes, I hope you're right." Sirius chuckled, while he dabbed at his stomach. He then turned to the dingy mirror over their tiny, filthy sink, inspected his torso, and frowned. "Damn. Can't get the claws right." He mumbled.

Harry jerked awake to find Hermione's hand wrapped around his while her other hand clutched the letter Hedwig had delivered in the night. Harry sat up and hugged her. As he pressed his cheek against hers, he felt her jaw tremble. He turned to Luna on his right and found her face still blank with sleep.

"Looks like we're going to Romania." Harry whispered. Hermione held him tighter.

**Interesting fact: Xeno requested his Luna tattoo on day two because he was worried about forgetting her name. I wonder what Harry's prison nickname would be.**


	6. To See a Man about a Dog

**You guys can thank a hotel hot tub for breaking my writer's block.**

To See a Man About a Dog

Hermione stroked Harry's hair as she cradled his head in her lap. "You know, sometimes I wonder what life is like for normal people." She softly lamented.

"I know what you mean. What do they worry about?" Harry asked petulantly.

"Taxes? Rain?" Hermione replied with a shrug and a sigh.

Harry bent his neck to glance at Luna, who still slumbered peacefully. "Vernon always complained that life wasn't fair, but I feel like it's been a lot less fair to my friends."

"Vernon was a mean, stupid oaf." She sighed dismissively and shook her head, deep in thought. "This would all be so much easier if I could be sure my parents would help." She whispered. "What are we going to do?"

Lunchtime found the three children in the Lovegood's tent cottage, eating bacon sandwiches in a cauldron of steaming water. Upon waking and hearing the disturbing news contained in Sirius's letter, Luna suggested that they should brainstorm. She reiterated that people tend to think better when wet, and thus they busied themselves making Sirius Soup, sans-Sirius.

"So," Hermione began, "The goal is to break Sirius and Mr. Lovegood out of a Romanian wizarding prison."

"Could we try something more diplomatic first? It seems like a prison break might be more of a N.E.W.T.-level undertaking." Harry suggested apprehensively. "If we could start with robbery or treason and work our way up from there…" He trailed off.

"It might _seem_ difficult, Harry, but consider this:" Luna replied. "The prison is run by wizards in a country where the government is even more corrupt and inept than ours. They probably won't even consider letting any British authorities near Sirius without demanding some kind of bribe, and whoever the Ministry sends to collect him will be too proud to agree to it immediately. Time is on our side! Also consider that we're three incredibly charming children with hearts of gold." She smiled, seeming to relish the meager challenge. "Oh, they'll offer some resistance, but in the end, they don't stand a chance." She shrugged with her eyes closed, already savoring their inevitable victory.

Hermione had grown more and more bemused as Luna spoke, and she fought for a moment to compose her thoughts. "Well…" she began, "Luna, you paint a very bright picture there – for us, anyhow – and though I doubt it will be _easy,_ you do make some valid points." She admitted with an appreciative nod. "Politics could work in our favor, and it's entirely possible that we'll be dealing with inept prison personnel. I also won't argue the 'hearts of gold' bit. Especially Harry-"

"Thanks, love." Harry mumbled around a bite of his sandwich, squeezing Hermione's hand beneath the water.

"-but," Hermione continued, "Your plan assumes we can _get_ to Romania. How are we going to get to Romania _and back_ without my parents finding out we were gone to orchestrate a prison break?"

"That's why we're here." Luna answered, sweeping her hands over the surface of the water, indicating its powers as a thought amplifier. "So, Romania, prison break, and back in, let's say… three hours." Luna sighed, sinking down until her chin touched the surface of the water.

The three settled into a silence heavy with expectation, the moist air carrying only the sound of the occasional splash or thoughtful sigh.

"Isn't your Dad's car pretty fast, Hermione?" Harry suggested. "How long would it take to get there if we, er, gave it some help?"

Hermione gave a short chuckle. "It doesn't matter how fast it is, considering he takes it to work every day, and would notice pretty quickly if it vanished from the surgery. There's also the fact that it's over a thousand miles from here to Romania." She began ticking off problems on her fingers. "Then there's the fact that we don't know how to make it fly. Even if there was nothing but autobahn from here to Romania – which there isn't – none of us can drive. Even if we flew, it would take hours." She finished with a sigh.

"I can drive." Luna offered quietly.

"When did you learn?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"I learned in Ottery St. Catchpole." She shrugged.

"Well, even so, it would still take too long. Plus, I feel like he would just _know_ the moment we borrowed it. He once clutched his head during dinner – out of nowhere, he had no idea why – and woke the next morning to find he had a broken taillight." Hermione sighed. "We need something instantaneous, like Floo powder, apparition, or portkey. An international portkey probably isn't something they'd hand over to children, we can't apparate, and it's not like the Floo network will take us outside Britain."

"Well, not legally, no." Luna agreed.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and turned to Luna. "The Floo network is controlled by the ministry." She stated slowly. "It serves Britain only, and households have to be approved to have their fireplaces added."

"Well, yes, **The** Floo network is highly regulated. But it's not the _only_ floo network. There are also some unofficial ad-hoc networks that don't concern themselves with international law. The challenge would be finding one."

"That is something to consider, I suppose. How criminal is it to use unsanctioned networks?" Hermione inquired apprehensively.

"It's somewhere in the neighborhood of smuggling or fraud, I think." Luna bit her lip and cast her eyes down toward the steaming water. "If we find someone reputable, we probably won't get hexed or stabbed." She added quietly.

"We'll file that one under 'last resorts,' then." Hermione declared dubiously. "So, international portkeys – what sort of identification do they require?"

* * *

><p>"I can't believe we're trying this." Hermione hissed as she tottered through King's Cross on a shrunken pair of her mother's heels. The heels were not the only item missing from Emma's closet. Hermione had borrowed a blouse, skirt – all black - and to tie the backstory together she'd taken a black hat and veil she'd never seen her mother wear.<p>

"It's your plan." Harry mumbled, holding her hand and doing his best to make it seem he wasn't enjoying it.

Luna spoke from Hermione's other side, where she, too held one of the bushy-haired girl's hands. "It's brilliant, and it **will** work. Hearts of gold, remember, **mum?**" She prompted.

"Yes, **dear**." She sighed, focusing most of her attention on remaining upright. "If heels are funeral attire, I don't think I'll be attending any funerals after your Uncle Orion's. I thought they'd be bad, but this is just ridiculous." The very mature and haggard-looking Hermione muttered, putting one foot in front of the other with the air of one defusing a bomb on an amusement park ride.

"We're almost there." Harry attempted to soothe his girlfriend, whose looks were still formidable even when covered by glamours designed to add twenty years to her face.

"If we don't get this right, I really don't know what I'll tell my parents." Hermione whispered fearfully.

"You'll tell them to pick up their daughter and fake grandchildren from prison." Luna answered simply.

"In Romania." Harry added. "Oh, _that_ will clear up their confusion." He chuckled quietly.

Soon enough, the Portkey Authority office loomed before them, cloaked in muggle-specific notice-me-not charms, but as obvious as Big Ben to anyone magical. The man behind the counter was reading a book, but looked up as he noticed they were headed purposefully in his direction.

"Shh." Hermione cautioned. "Please be quiet while I talk to this kind gentleman about our portkey." She smiled weakly at the Portkey Authority clerk, who stood as they approached.

"Good morning, Miss. What can I help you with today?" The man inquired in a subdued tone. He offered a soft, sympathetic smile. The funeral attire was doing its job – Hermione was already being treated delicately.

"We need to be in Romania for my brother-in-law's funeral." Hermione sighed, wiping an imaginary tear out of the corner of her eye.

"Terribly sorry for your loss, ma'am. International portkey for three, then?" The man began filling in a form.

"Yes, thank you." Hermione sighed, dabbing at her eyes again.

"That's four galleons, and I'll need to stamp your passport, Miss." The clerk said apologetically, sliding the form to Hermione and reaching for his stamp.

Harry tightened his grip on Hermione's hand. This was the moment upon which their success depended. Hermione began to dig through the black clutch hanging from her shoulder, becoming increasingly frantic as the seconds ticked by. She soon murmured a choked "No!" and dumped the entire contents of the clutch on top of the form she was supposed to sign. On the counter sat nothing more than a handkerchief, a few galleons, and some crumpled pieces of paper. Hermione covered her eyes and began to shake slightly, trying her best to look forlorn. The two raven-haired children (one natural, one artificial) each hugged a side of their "mother," completing the heart-wrenching tableau.

It worked. The moment she'd covered her eyes, the clerk looked panicked. After the first choked sob, he began stuffing the items back into the clutch. "It's alright, Miss. Don't worry – I can mark it as though you presented an item with a family crest. It's an old loophole, no one will bother looking into it." He said in a rush, scratching out a few more checkboxes on the form and shoving it toward Hermione, praying the despondent woman would just go. "It's four galleons, and if you can just sign here, I'll have you on your way."

Hermione wiped her eyes again. "Thank you." She whispered, scribbling a completely illegible signature which contained only the vaguest hints of actual letters. She paid the fee and was rewarded with an odd little trinket. "Is this a Minister Fudge bobble-head doll?" She asked, bewildered almost to the point of dropping her grieving act. Luna smiled and reached out to prod it, but the clerk motioned for her to stop.

"Yes, Ma'am, that's your portkey. Just give it a shake when you're all ready to go. A distraction is included, so don't worry about finding cover. Don't forget to hold hands." He explained with a curt nod. He then returned to the book he'd been reading when they arrived, hoping very much that the weeping lady would leave him alone.

"Thank you." Hermione said breathlessly. She took Harry's hand, Harry took Luna's, and they were off.

"I told you it would work." Luna said brightly.

"I'm a little worried about national security, _good lord that was easy…_" Hermione muttered. They came to a stop by a pillar. "Is everyone ready?" Hermione asked, subtly looking around to see if they were being watched.

"Ready." Harry said. Luna nodded. They all redoubled their grip on one another and Hermione proceeded to throttle the little cartoonish effigy of the Minister. A balloon appeared some fifty feet away and instantly popped, drawing the attention of the muggles. That was the last thing the three of them heard before they were whipped through the roaring void toward Bucharest.

Luna squinted in Harry's direction and opened her mouth to speak. "..." Her lips moved, but no sound reached Harry's ears.

"WHAT?" Harry screamed back over the noise.

"Dn frt to tu and ro!" He heard her reply. Then they hit the ground with considerable force. Harry opened his eyes to find Luna's face obscuring his view of the sky. "I said don't forget to tuck and roll." She offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Ohhh." Hermione moaned from her own landing site a few feet away from Harry's. She spat out a corner of the veil which had found its way into her mouth. "God I hate heels." She'd lost them on impact and was taking deep breaths while rubbing her bruised knees. Harry helped her up, though he realized (with great frustration) that he could not linger in holding her. It didn't fit the backstory, and they had to get moving.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, not too far away, a surly, taciturn man shoved a rolled up newspaper through the bars of a prison cell.<p>

"Thanks, you smelly berk." Sirius bowed his head slightly to the guard. The guard's face showed only confusion. "Alright," Sirius said, turning to Xeno. "This one doesn't speak English either. Do you think he'd be susceptible to our feminine wiles?" Sirius asked nonchalantly, jerking his head toward the guard's retreating back.

"Do we have any?" Xeno asked dubiously.

"We could fake some." Sirius shrugged.

"I doubt it. He looks awfully butch to me. Doesn't seem desperate enough, either. Then there's the language barrier." Xeno shook his head.

"Yeah..." Sirius sighed. "How do you think the kids are holding up?"

"They're probably fine. Luna's good at taking care of herself." He nodded to himself. "Has been since we lost her Mum." He finished in a low voice, returning his gaze to the unintelligible newspaper. "The mattress fund should get her through most of Hogwarts. Things have a way of working themselves out, most of the time. It's awful when they don't, though." He sighed.

"I'm sure the Grangers have taken her in by now." Sirius said reassuringly. "They seemed like great people. Good sense of humor, and they certainly raised Hermione right. I remember Lily saying good things about 'Dentist Money,' so that bodes well for their future." He sighed. "I just can't stand the idea that I was only there long enough to taunt Harry with the idea of having a Godfather, then rip it all away and end up right back in prison."

"Speaking of that, how's escape plan 'A' coming?" Xeno asked, folding the newspaper after concluding it was otherwise useless.

"Well, my animagus form is definitely a go. But I'm struggling with the idea of biting one of these blokes. I mean, you know the water here isn't fit for normal humans." Sirius gestured toward the poor, abused toilet. "Can you imagine what their blood must be like if they actually drink that stuff? I'm seriously afraid I'll catch something completely unknown to civilized healers." He held his stomach tenderly. "Best case scenario, I just end up drunk. Then there's the incredibly small window of opportunity." He gestured toward the bars separating them from their wardens.

Sirius drummed his fingers on his stomach. "I'm too, er, 'healthy' to fit through the bars, so we'll definitely need a wand to get either of us out. So, we've got to wait until one of them is right on top of us, and then nick his wand before help arrives. Then we get _our_ wands out of the desk, fight our way out the door, find Peter Pettigrew by means I have yet to devise-"

"-and somehow find a way back home that doesn't involve any government oversight." Xeno finished for him. He made one last fold, donned his newspaper hat and looked at Sirius expectantly.

"What?" Sirius asked. Xeno pointed at the hat and cocked his head, clearly asking for an opinion. "It's nice, I suppose." Sirius admitted. He stared out at the warden for a moment. "What about plan 'B'?" He muttered in a subdued, hollow tone.

"What about it?" Xeno replied. "Seduction is clearly not an option."

"Well, I mean if we somehow end up with a female guard..." Sirius trailed off hopefully.

"Of course. Keep that dream alive." Xeno chuckled.

Sirius sighed, regarding his cellmate with apathy. "You know that hat's going to be toilet paper at some point, right?"

"Yes, I suppose it will." Xeno sighed, gazing dejectedly at the empty cardboard roll their wardens had so cruelly ignored.

"Well I wish you wouldn't fold any more of it. Just makes it more pointy." Sirius winced and shuddered before lying back on his cot.

**It feels really, really good to get a new chapter out. I missed hearing from all of you who reviewed, and hope you enjoyed it.**


	7. The Blonde and the Curious

The Blonde and the Curious: Bucharest Drift

"_Alohomora._" Luna whispered. There was a click, and the door handle yielded. She pulled the door open and slid into the driver's seat. The car she'd chosen to borrow for their Romanian adventure was German, though that wasn't saying much as most cars in Romania were both German and stolen. Upon recalling that they were mostly stolen, she felt a little better about taking the car. "I'll bet you were stolen in the first place." Luna murmured, stroking the dash. "Probably from some nice British family." She tapped her wand on the steering column near the ignition and heard the engine cranking, then rumbling to life. "It's like I'm reclaiming you in the name of the Crown." She said brightly, giving the wheel an affectionate squeeze.

The pale girl with the temporarily black hair adjusted her mirrors and shifted the car into reverse, backing it gently out of its parking space. In her rear-view mirror, she took one last glance at Bucharest City Airport before shifting into first and rocketing out of the parking lot, crossing several lanes of traffic with little regard for the rules of merging etiquette. As she settled into a comfortable cruising speed of 140 KPH, she pinned the pamphlet they'd gotten from the Bureau of Tourism kiosk between her thumb and the wheel. "Right then, dragon reserve." She murmured, flicking her eyes between the map on the page and the road rapidly passing beneath her.

Hermione removed the hat and veil she'd worn for their illusion thus far – it didn't fit the story they'd be using here. She shrunk them and stowed them in the black clutch that still hung from her shoulder, which also held her mother's shrunken heels. Poor Luna had given Hermione her shoes, insisting that Hermione needed the stability more than she did, and that she was accustomed to going barefoot at home anyway. Hermione ended up using a glamour charm to turn Luna's white trainers into black ballet flats. She was momentarily distracted from the task at hand by the realization that these were probably the most sensible shoes ever created.

"Do you remember the story?" Harry inquired.

"I think so." Hermione sighed nervously. "Husband's wand stolen by two ruffians, still in hospital from being hexed, wondering if they've brought in anyone fitting the description of Xeno and Sirius."

"Good." Harry nodded.

"Right then." Hermione murmured nervously as she surveyed the front of the jail she and her boyfriend were about to assault. "Phase One."

The disguised young couple walked into the little jail and found a bored-looking man reading flipping through a quidditch magazine with his chin resting on his palm. The man looked up when he heard his visitors, laid the magazine down, and straightened up. "Care este scopul tau aici?" He inquired in an appropriately bored tone.

"I'm afraid I don't speak Romanian." Hermione answered with an apologetic smile. "Do you speak English?" She asked hopefully.

"Nr engleză." He replied with a sigh. He held up a finger and gestured for her to wait, then strode to the tall fireplace – ubiquitous in the magical world – and tossed in a handful of floo powder. "Ambasada Marii Britanii." He called into the flames. After a few seconds, a head appeared. "Un britanic tocmai a sosit. Poţi găsi pe cineva care poate traduce?"

"Da, o pot face." The man in the fire replied. The guard beckoned Hermione over to the hearth. She approached, releasing Harry's hand with a conscious effort – the guard needed to forget Harry's presence. "What can we do for you, Miss?" The voice inquired from the grate.

Harry had begun to slowly wander through the office, doing his best to tread quietly and move inconspicuously. He forced his eyes over every little detail with an abundance of childlike curiosity. He heard Hermione's reply. "Well, I was hoping to recover a stolen wand, you see, my husband…" As Harry moved further into the jail, he saw the first few holding cells – he was on the right track. With a final glance back at Hermione, who was roasting carefully-prepared lies over an open fire, he confirmed that no one was paying him any attention and broke into a silent jog, examining the occupants of the sparsely populated cells as he passed them. 'Drunk, drunk.' He thought. 'Woman – scratch that – drag queen. Drunk.'

Xeno had been explaining some odd conspiracy theory or other to Sirius (who had begun to tune him out) when the sound of hurried footsteps caused him to trail off. Sirius moved quickly to the bars and looked around, straining to figure out what was going on. Xeno looked up from his little bench with mild interest, trusting Sirius to keep him informed as he always did. After a few moments, a blonde, panicked-looking young man went jogging by, doing a double-take and skidding to a halt as he was about to pass Sirius and Xeno's cell.

"You there, little blonde boy! If you help me out of this hellhole, I'll give you a pound." Sirius wagged his eyebrows, desperately trying to make it seem as if that was a generous offer for a case of aiding and abetting.

"You haven't got a pound." Xeno snorted incredulously while Sirius glared daggers at him.

"It's me, _Uncle __Orion!_ Don't you recognize your own _nephew?_" Harry ground out, looking very pointedly at Sirius and praying he wasn't about to use his real name.

Sirius's mouth made a delighted "o" of understanding. "You came! I can't ruddy believe it. So, what's the plan?" He hissed quietly as his eyes darted around in search of a guard. "Will there be a signal of some sort? I might be able to get through the bars to help if somebody lubes me up first, but then how do we get Xeno out?"

At this, Xeno perked up. "Oh, are we breaking out?" He stood. "Suppose I should pack." He muttered in a tone that suggested it might take a while. He then took off his latest newspaper hat, carefully folded it, and stuck it neatly into the breast of his jumpsuit. "Right, I'm ready whenever you chaps are."

"Where's Hermione?" Sirius inquired, surprised she wasn't by Harry's side.

"She's up front, initiating Phase One." Harry answered cryptically.

"What's Phase One?" Sirius demanded.

"Phase One tells us where your wands are being kept, hopefully, and buys me some time to brief you on Phase Two." Harry answered hurriedly.

"And what's Phase Two?" Sirius asked with an excited grin.

"Well, the thing about Phase Two…" Harry began uncertainly. "Phase Two involves a lot of improvisation."

"Ugh." Xeno muttered in disgust. "Improv… the lowest form of comedy."

Harry and Sirius shared confused looks for a second, then resumed their efforts to escape.

"How does the lock on the cell work?" Harry demanded.

"It's nothing special. We can't leave the walls of the cell magically, and the bars are meant to keep us from leaving physically. We need the keys to get both of us out. You're going to need help getting those." Sirius stopped to think for a moment. "Who's on duty right now? The beady-eyed one, the one with bad skin, or the fat one?"

Harry thought the question over. "Could you be more specific? The bloke Hermione's talking to fits all those criteria."

"That's fatty, then." Sirius nodded. "He keeps his keys in his jacket. Alright, here's what you do. Did you see the bathroom between the cell block and the front office?"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Luna was skidding to a halt on the hill leading up to the dragon reserve. She parked and puzzled momentarily when the car began to roll backwards. After a brief moment of worry, she remembered to apply the parking brake. Leaving the brochure in the car, she began to hike up the hill, twirling her wand between her fingers, enjoying the feel of the grass between her toes. When she finally crested the hill, she was not greeted with the long, winding fence she'd been imagining. She saw instead a massive dome casting a goldenrod-colored haze over the vast fields of the reserve. "Oh." She frowned. "Well, I suppose that still works."<p>

* * *

><p>Xeno worked his tongue around his mouth, doing his best to generate saliva quickly. He paused long enough to sigh. "I'd have preferred the other kind of improv over this." He lamented, shaking his head mournfully. He then spat onto the black fur of Padfoot, whom he was desperately trying to lather with a bar of soap he'd liberated from the bathroom. "This is hopeless. We need more water."<p>

Sirius whined at the situation, fighting the urge to shake all the hard-won (but disgusting) moisture off. He turned baleful eyes on his cellmate.

"What?" Xeno demanded. "You think I'm enjoying this any more than you are? This is the most disgusting thing I've done in ages."

Xeno got up and made his way to the sink as Harry picked up the lathering where he'd left off. Xeno soon returned with a mouthful of water which he expelled onto Sirius's back like a cherub in a fountain. Picking up the soap, he continued the lathering process with abandon until Sirius began to paw at the bars.

"I think he's ready." Harry concluded.

"Or he's sick of being spat on." Xeno muttered.

Sirius poked his head out of the cell, then forced his shoulders through. When it came time for his ribcage to go through, the soap really became necessary. He clawed and strained against the ground, eventually wedging himself and removing what little leverage he had. It didn't help that the floor had grown slippery with soapy water.

"Give him a push." Harry suggested. Xeno obliged, grabbing the dog's rump and pushing it forward. Sirius's body bent at an odd angle, and he yelped in anger and pain.

"Well I'm _sorry_," Xeno rolled his eyes as Sirius craned his canine head back to look at him reproachfully. "But this is the only way you're getting out. Try to keep your back straight. Harry, see if you can pull."

Harry made to grab Padfoot's head, but instead found his fingers pressed between carnivorous teeth. Sirius wasn't applying pressure though. "You want me to pull you by the teeth?" Harry asked incredulously. Sirius nodded, taking Harry's hand up and down with his head.

"Dogs have very strong teeth. It's a good plan – just try not to let him break the skin." Xeno suggested. "Alright then gents, on three." He paused to put one hand on Sirius's rump, and the other under his belly. "One, two, THREE!"

With a great cacophony of yelping and growling, Sirius scrambled through the bars to freedom, releasing Harry's fist before his momentum sent him skidding sideways into the opposite wall, eliciting yet another yelp of pain.

"Now that we're all covered in each other's saliva…" Xeno mused disgustedly while he wiped his hands on Sirius's threadbare bunk bed. "Good luck and all that. Suppose I'll see you both soon. If not, make sure Luna eats well."

As Harry heard the tramp of boots approaching from the front office, he steeled himself for battle, hoping that Hermione would use her time alone wisely.

* * *

><p>Charlie Weasley calmly sipped at his tea while gazing out the window of his post. He was in a tower which overlooked the reserve, and the view was magnificent. He could observe the dragons easily from up here, and observation usually made for an easy shift. He could let his mind wander, and he trusted that any interesting behavior among the dragons would catch his eye if he checked on them a few times an hour. With a scholarly appreciation, he watched as one of the young welsh green drakes took flight. This was something they did from time to time, and was nothing to worry about, considering the powerful ward which kept – "Oh bollocks." Charlie abjectly whispered.<p>

The drake was soaring beyond the barrier, a hundred feet in the air. That wasn't supposed to happen.

* * *

><p>As soon as the guard left to investigate the yelping and the thump of Sirius hitting the wall, Hermione sprang into action. Using her body to block the view from the fireplace, she grabbed the confiscated wands and stuffed them down the front of her blouse. Turning around with a grateful smile, she returned to the fireplace, thanked the translator for his help and put out the fire before he could reply.<p>

The bushy-haired girl dashed in the direction Harry and the guard had gone, rounding a corner very nearly in time to catch one of her boyfriend's flailing feet in the face. It sailed by with inches to spare as Harry clung to the guard's neck, trying desperately to choke the man out while Padfoot chewed on one of his fat legs. The guard's wand lay useless on the floor a few feet away.

It was almost like Harry was practicing some strange form of rodeo. It looked as though he was winning, though. The longer he clung to the reeling guard – no easy feat as he was even being smashed against walls by the huge man – the more the guard's movements slowed. He was running out of air. "The keys are in his pocket! Get them and let Xeno out!"

Hermione apprehensively tried to dart forward and grab at the jacket, but the guard had rallied and his renewed flailing managed to keep her at bay. He clung to the bars of one of the cells and used the momentary leverage to fling Sirius away from his nearly-ruined leg. Happily, he had grabbed the bars of Xeno's cell. Xeno took the opportunity to grab the guard's arm and yank it viciously inward, pinning the fat man to the bars. Sirius transformed after being thrown back, and bared his human teeth with a growl, seeming almost to disregard the transformation. He rushed the fat man and tore at the inside of his jacket, taking advantage of the opportunity Xeno had created. Harry, seeing his godfather's intent, did his best to keep the guard's remaining arm from creating a problem. A second later, Sirius had the keys and was slapping the guard in the face with them.

"Give Xeno the other arm." Sirius panted, gesturing toward the cell. Harry complied, allowing Xeno to assume control of both arms, though it looked as though his grip was tenuous. Sirius held his hand out to Hermione. "Wand, please." He said with relish, sporting a predatory grin. The guard now looked terrified, his jowly, scratched, tenderized face contorted in concern for his mortal well-being.

"You're an arsehole." Sirius said, jabbing his wand into the man's chest. "So you of all people should appreciate a need for _toilet __paper!_" He screamed. "_Stupefy!__" _The man was bathed briefly in a red glow before going slack. Xeno let him drop to the floor.

"Is everybody alright?" Hermione asked, squeezing Harry's hand with such greedy ferocity that he'd need to mention it soon or risk injury.

After freeing Xeno, Sirius hugged Harry. "I missed you, kid. No more prison for me, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that." Harry replied, squeezing his godfather tightly.

"Where's Luna?" Xeno demanded after looking around the corner and seeing she wasn't standing guard.

"She's in charge of Phase Three." Hermione replied. "The greater distraction. Phase Four is getting back to England, and we're all doing that together."

The group moved to the front office, giving apologetic looks to the remaining prisoners, who looked a bit miffed at being excluded from the jailbreak. One of the gentlemen who'd been sleeping off a hangover had been awakened by the scuffle. He pointed at Sirius and yelled something at them as they retreated. "Tu eşti om, câine!" The man then laughed uproariously.

Sirius took the bottle of liquor that the guard had been drinking and poured some of it into his mouth, careful not to let the bottle touch his lips. He then gargled and spat onto the floor, tinting it pink with blood. He shivered and made awkward movements with his tongue which seemed to accomplish nothing. "I _knew_ he was going to taste awful. Cor… that was bad."

"So how did you all get here?" Sirius asked in apparent wonder.

"We got a portkey from King's Cross." Harry explained. "That got us to the Bucharest Airport. Hermione and I exchanged a little money and took a cab from there. Luna said she knew where she was going and that it wouldn't take long. She left us at the taxi stand and wandered off into the parking lot. Maybe she was going to catch a bus."

"When is Luna joining us?" Xeno inquired, anxiously looking out the window. He was looking forward to seeing her again. He was quite glad he'd get to see her grow up as opposed to rotting in prison.

Hermione handed him his wand. "She said she'd be here around this time. Her job was to create a distraction that would draw aurors from all over the city. She said she would create widespread panic, but she didn't mention exactly how."

"I think she said something about a tourist attraction." Harry recalled.

They soon became aware of a low buzzing noise which grew louder as the seconds passed. Everyone moved to the window. A gray Mercedes was hurtling up the street on which the jail was situated. It slowed as it neared the building, but not enough to stop before whizzing past and performing a sliding U-turn. Luna Lovegood charged back up the street and parked her ill-gotten 190E Cosworth in front of the jail. She honked the horn. Harry stepped out of the building, motioning for the others to wait behind him. Looking furtively up and down the street to make sure it was clear, he waved for the others to follow. They quickly dashed into the car, Sirius getting in the front with Luna while Xeno and the other two children piled into the back. Luna turned in her seat and climbed over it slightly to give her father a hug. "Hello Daddy. How was prison?" She asked.

"It wasn't too bad." He answered, returning Luna's embrace. "Got a few laughs from the layouts in the local newspaper. The escape was fun. I got to hold a mean bloke's arm while your Uncle pummeled his face." He elaborated. "Did you find the mattress fund?"

"Yes, Daddy. The Grangers looked after me." She replied chidingly. He needn't have worried about her.

Before they could even buckle their seatbelts, Luna was off, careening around a corner, heading back in the direction from which she'd come.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, perplexed. Phase Four was really dependent on the adults in the party – she assumed that the two grown men would have more concrete travel plans.

"Back to the dragon reserve." Luna answered simply, executing a pendulum turn as she entered a roundabout.

"Back?" Hermione repeated, confused.

"Yes, I faked the escape of a dragon to send the keepers and local aurors into a panic." Luna said with a satisfied little smile.

"I'm so proud of you." Sirius and Xeno blurted out simultaneously. Luna's smile grew as she barreled onto a straightaway and gave it more gas.


	8. Disappearing Underwear

**Please review!**

**Disappearing Underwear**

"So right now, all of magical Bucharest is cowering in fear of an escaped dragon?" Harry prompted.

"Yes." Luna confirmed.

"But you _faked_ a dragon escape, so there's no real danger?" Hermione inquired apprehensively.

"Exactly." Luna gave a clipped nod.

"_How_?" Hermione demanded. "How on earth did you fake a dragon escape?"

"Well, after I realized that it wasn't feasible to get one out, I just created an illusory dragon in the enclosure and made it fly out. I made sure I did it near a guard tower so someone would see." Luna shrugged happily.

Hermione looked impressed. "That's actually quite brilliant." She blinked in surprise. Xeno and Sirius nodded in agreement.

"So how are we getting back?" Harry asked the group at large. He was growing increasingly worried about Luna's driving. It was terrifying, yet oddly graceful, and almost entirely unlawful.

Hermione gave Xeno a pointed look. "I imagined getting back would be much easier than getting here. Am I right?"

"Yes." Xeno nodded easily, biting his upper lip, appearing deep in thought. "We can side-along apparate you kids home, I'm sure. You feeling up to that, Orion?"

Sirius yawned theatrically and cradled his stomach. "I'd love to get lunch first." He said hesitantly. "Plus," he added with calculated nonchalance, "I've still got a rat to catch."

"You can _not_ be serious!" Hermione scoffed.

"Lately, I'm a little more Orion, but deep down, I'm always Sirius." The black-haired man shot back, grinning cheesily.

Hermione sighed. "I can't believe you waited this long to do that. I've been expecting that joke since day one." She mumbled.

"It takes a lot of restraint. I'm tempted to whip it out all the time." Sirius defended himself. "But yes, we've come this far, and I intend to leave with the traitorous rat I came for. He's the key to my freedom, and I'm not letting his flea-bitten arse get away." He crossed his arms, signaling that there was no room for argument.

"How long were you in the country before you were caught?" Hermione demanded wearily.

"What was it?" Xeno asked, tapping his chin. "About twenty minutes?"

"Two hours." Sirius corrected, surprised by Xeno's betrayal. "I'll be honest," he put up his hands in a placating gesture. "It all could have gone better. I didn't have my Everyman charm up, neither of us had passports, and we were not as cooperative as we could have been with the local aurors."

"Well, sucker-punching an auror and attempting to escape isn't really cooperating, is it?" Xeno asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Well _excuse __me_ for clinging to freedom." Sirius huffed.

"Anyway, the sucker-punch is what got us thrown in jail. Without that we might have just been deported." Xeno explained.

"Everyman charms and caution aside, Harry and I need to get back home very, very soon." Hermione insisted. "So Sirius, will your plan for capturing Peter take more than half an hour?"

"Well, that would depend on whether or not we know where the Weasleys are staying." Sirius hemmed, glancing sideways at Luna.

"I passed an inn on the way there. It was close to the reserve, and it had a sign welcoming magicals." She offered hopefully.

"_That__'__s_ my favorite fake niece!" Sirius cheered.

They soon found the inn in question and began to prepare a plan of attack. Harry was surprised to learn that his godfather wouldn't be joining the assault.

"Well, the thing is, I don't think I should go in." Sirius said apologetically.

"Afraid you're going to sucker-punch someone?" Hermione asked cynically.

"Not as such, no. I'm more worried that Arthur Weasley would be able to see through my Everyman charm. Ministry employees are trained to see a forgettable face as a red flag, so there's a chance he'd dispel the effect and see my face, in which case he'd hex the bollocks off me." Sirius grimaced.

"Well then, Sirius can't go in." Hermione agreed with a sigh. "Arthur knows his face from the papers. Harry and I can't go in because as far as Ron knows, we're in England. If he sees us and says something, Peter might overhear. So I guess it's down to you and Luna." Hermione looked hopefully at Xenophilius Lovegood, who was examining the architecture of the inn with touristy interest. "If you're feeling up to it?" She added hopefully.

"Daddy?" Luna prompted.

"Hm?" Xeno snapped out of his reverie.

"Are we up for capturing and incapacitating the fugitive masquerading as a rat?" She inquired. "Story of the year?" She reminded him.

"Oh. Right. Certainly, yes." Xeno nodded, drawing his wand and pausing with his hand on the door latch. "Definitely incapacitated, not killed, right?"

"Right." Sirius turned to face Xeno with a severe look. "_Very important _to get him alive." He emphasized. "And make sure you don't let him transform. He'll be a lot more manageable as a rat. So, find Ron's room, get Peter, and get out – preferably without being noticed – in about five minutes." He summarized.

"Right." Xeno muttered distractedly and climbed out of the car.

"We'll be back soon." Luna said brightly.

"Should be a laugh." Sirius clapped Luna on the shoulder with a wolfish grin. "Good luck."

Six minutes later, Xeno walked around from the rear of the inn. He was clutching a limp rat and whistling in a way that was almost painfully casual, though Luna was nowhere to be seen. Xeno returned to the back seat with Harry and Hermione to give his report. "It went about as well as I expected. Had a little snag when I couldn't find him in Ron and Ginny's room. It turned out he was in Arthur and Molly's room, going through the closet. I think he was looking to steal some of Arthur's clothes for an escape. I managed to surprise him though. He should be out for another half hour or so."

"So he's unable to transform?" Sirius demanded.

"I think so." Xeno didn't sound very certain.

"Well, let's give him an incentive to behave." Sirius began transfiguring something, though the three in the back seat couldn't see exactly what it was.

"Where's Luna?" Hermione inquired.

"She's still inside, I imagine." Xeno replied. "She was distracting the Weasleys while I searched for Peter."

"How?" Harry wondered aloud.

"I'm not sure." Xeno shrugged. "She said she was going to wing it."

At that moment, Ron, Fred, and George came sprinting out the front of the inn and tore off toward the reserve. Seconds later, Percy and Molly followed. "It's not as if you could help! Put your wands away! You're still in muggle territory!" Molly bellowed. Sirius ducked down to hide himself and Harry and Hermione followed suit just in case Molly noticed them.

"Charlie and the authorities will handle it! Get back here, you bloody idiots!" Percy yelled plaintively.

As Percy ran off after his younger brothers, Luna exited the inn – clearly in no particular hurry – and exchanged words with Molly at a reasonable volume. The older woman seemed to be imploring her to return to the hotel, but Luna was gesturing toward the car with a reassuring smile. Molly looked on helplessly as Luna approached the stolen Mercedes, though her expression turned incredulous as Luna got into the driver's seat. The silver-eyed girl favored her father with a triumphant smile when she saw the rat clutched in his fist, and without further ado she took off, squealing the tires and setting a course for the airport.

As they left the inn behind, Sirius returned to a proper sitting position and revealed his handiwork with a very smug grin. He'd conjured a wooden box.

"A box? That's it?" Hermione asked flatly.

"This is no ordinary box. This is my Peterbox - a box for bad, naughty little rats." Sirius removed the lid to reveal that the walls of the box were lined with nails.

"Oh." Hermione winced.

"Oh indeed." Sirius nodded gravely. "Like to see him transform in _this_." He muttered, tapping the wood with grim satisfaction. He held the box between the seats so that Xeno could deposit their prisoner, replacing the lid after Peter was safely stowed. He turned to address Luna. "So how did your distraction work?"

"Oh, I just told them Daddy and I had heard from a local auror that there was trouble at the reserve, then I asked if Charlie was alright." She wore a self-satisfied smile. "Arthur apparated straight off. I don't think the others believed me at first, but after Arthur was gone a couple of minutes, they started to get worried. So the boys ran off. Perfect distraction." She smiled cheekily.

"Well-done!" Sirius cheered. "You should consider a career in espionage or something, Luna."

"It _is_ a bit hazardous, but according to your mother, the pay was excellent." Xeno agreed.

Hermione looked at the older man quizzically. "I thought she was an Unspeakable."

"She had other offers." Xeno said simply.

"So how are we getting home now? Apparition?" Sirius inquired.

Xeno kneaded his forehead. "Yes, I suppose that is our only choice if we want to get there quickly. There's a reason people take portkeys for this kind of distance, though." He declared with a note of mild irritation.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"It's going to give us all a massive headache." Xeno replied bluntly. "That's the best-case scenario, mind you. Most likely we'll end up with nosebleeds as well. Worst-case, we leave some body parts behind."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a worried glance.

They soon reached the airport, where they returned the car Luna had borrowed to roughly the same place she'd found it. "We should get one of these, Daddy. It's even more fun than the game in the village."

"We'll see." Xeno smiled fondly. "Could make for an article, I suppose."

"What game?" Hermione asked.

"The one that taught me to drive. There's an arcade in Ottery St. Catchpole. That's where I learned." Luna explained brightly as they searched for a place to disapparate.

"You learned to drive from a video game?" Hermione demanded.

Luna nodded. "I have the high score."

"That would explain a great deal." Hermione sighed, having gained a new appreciation for the fact that they'd survived what was likely Luna's first voyage in a real car.

The group soon found a suitable place sandwiched between two tall vans. Sirius declared it good enough after a few seconds passed with no muggles wandering into their line of sight and began to steel himself for the journey ahead. "Xeno, I've never apparated this far before, and I'm a bit out of practice." He appeared anxious. "Any tips?"

"Daddy, couldn't we bring them home with us to make it easy for him?" Luna suggested.

"Yes, I suppose that does make sense." Xeno sighed and rolled up his sleeves. "Just means I'm going to have to carry everyone myself, though." He muttered. "Everybody grab a patch of skin and hold tight. If your eardrums burst, don't panic – I've got a spell written somewhere for repairing them."

Everyone grabbed a section of Xeno's arm, except for Luna, who took one of his hands. "Ready?" Xeno inquired. He didn't sound excited about the outlandish feat of magic to come; he sounded more like a man who was about to lift something so large that it would almost certainly damage his back. Everyone replied in the affirmative, and with a crack, they vanished.

Harry felt an intense pressure – much more intense than any natural atmospheric phenomenon – and an instant second later, he found himself standing in Luna's yard, gagging at the sudden difference. Xeno dropped to his knees and fell face-down on the grass. He was still moving, so Harry turned his attention to Sirius. The thin man rubbed his face, shook his head rapidly and transformed into Padfoot, continuing to flap his head and shake out the discomfort of the journey before changing back. Harry noticed that Hermione was clutching her ears in pain.

"Are you alright?" Harry demanded in alarm, taking his girlfriend by the elbows to get her attention.

"Yes." Hermione closed her eyes and winced. "My ears hurt quite a bit though."

"Are they leaking blood?" Xeno moaned from the ground.

Harry pulled one of Hermione's hands away. "No."

"Then the eardrum's intact." Xeno explained helpfully. "Luna, are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine Daddy." Luna replied. She was lying on her back several feet away as though trying to get used to solid ground again.

Hermione moved to see if she could assist Harry, who was still swallowing rapidly to fix whatever had gone wrong with his head before it made him retch, but she stopped halfway there with a frown. She squirmed on the spot as if trying to find the origin of her discomfort. Suddenly, she grasped her hips and rubbed her skirt up and down. "My underwear are gone!" She screeched indignantly.

Harry jammed a hand into his pocket. "Mine too." Harry muttered, then immediately regretted having opened his mouth. "Mmmmm-mm." He moaned dejectedly.

"Well I'm sorry, but five bloody people over a thousand bloody miles – something's got to give." Xeno shook his head doggedly.

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione were very glad to return home. Their Romanian adventure had been interesting, but that fact didn't offset the immense stress involved with potentially stranding themselves a thousand miles from home to attempt a jailbreak.<p>

Hermione was glad to find that her parents hadn't questioned the note she'd left on the fridge stating that they'd gone to Luna's house and would be back before dinner. Nor did Emma seem to notice that the couple's clothes didn't fit quite the way they had at breakfast – a side-effect of imprecise shrinking and unshrinking. Hermione needed only assure her mother that she and Harry had eaten something and the older woman was actual fact, she and Harry had skipped lunch and were absolutely starving, but it was hardly worth complaining about after a successful assault on a prison and subsequent long-distance apparition. Hunger and a pair of knickers were a small price to pay for getting Xeno and Sirius back.

Sirius had opted to stay with the Lovegoods again, citing the need to watch over Peter and develop a more permanent method of containing him. He promised that if the situation allowed it, he would try to visit tomorrow. Luna assured her friends that she would come with or without her fake uncle to keep them updated.

* * *

><p>Bedtime was quickly becoming Harry Potter's favorite time of day. This was not due to fatigue or any desire to sleep (though today had certainly been tiring). He favored it because it allowed him to spend time with Hermione. Yes, it was quite true that he spent almost every minute of every day with Hermione. Most days, they even had large amounts of time alone. It was also perfectly true that they'd just had a strange adventure together – an action-packed lovers' vacation of sorts. But when their heads hit Harry's pillow, the air between them grew charged.<p>

The darkness and quiet of the evening gave the impression that the world had drawn in around them, contracting until it contained only the room and the bed – the center of the universe. Their voices grew hushed, fervent and mirthful as they spoke mere inches from one another, almost always face to face until they were finally prepared to sleep.

The usual evening routine had come to include them talking for hours before falling asleep. They talked about anything, though it often seemed more like everything than anything. 'Everything' was the word Harry used in his head. He and his girlfriend talked about everything, and it didn't get old. Even when he had nothing to say, she spoke for him, and that was just fine. Her ideas and words flowed over him, and he felt their gentle weight as if they were a part of the bedding itself. He would listen, drinking in her beauty, knowing that no experience in daylight – today's or tomorrow's – could compare to this. He found Hermione so beautiful, angelic, even, with silky slopes and curves and high-voltage eyes illuminated in the orange and black gradients from the lamp. Sometimes, Harry had to concentrate very hard on what she was saying. When he stared too hard and missed something she'd said, he'd cover himself with a wordless kiss, which Hermione never seemed to mind.

Hermione would share half-hearted worries that her parents had knowledge or suspicion of their physical intimacy or her cat parts. She would giggle explosively – schooling the outbursts quickly into little hisses and puffs of air in an effort to keep quiet – at Harry's conjecture on Stan's likely reaction, were he to figure out that his daughter was sleeping with a boy and in possession of a tail. She assumed he would chalk it up to a bad dream and go for a very long drive.

Sometimes they would read one of Hermione's many books. She would often think of a passage she'd like to share with Harry – something she'd been reminded of during the day or something that had popped into her head even as they lay in bed together – and she'd tiptoe off to her room to grab the book in question. She would then look through the book by the dim light of one of their wands – often Harry's, so as to afford her the use of both hands – and upon finding the relevant passage, she would read it aloud, trying with reverence to deliver the prose the way the author would have wanted it.

Harry didn't always understand the things Hermione read to him, and even when he felt he did, he didn't always feel their impact the way Hermione did. Even so, he always enjoyed the process. Hermione's excitement at having something to share, the suspense of the journey to her room, the quiet passion of her delivery, the shimmering apprehension in her eyes when the words ran out and she looked at Harry to see his reaction. He loved all of it. He loved Hermione.

As she lay in Harry's arms, Hermione reflected that she was in a unique position when it came to her physical relationship with Harry. Due to his upbringing, Harry had no idea what couples typically did behind closed doors. This lack of knowledge coupled with Harry's habit of trusting her implicitly (especially in matters of intimacy) enabled her to try things with him that some boys might not have agreed to.

Initially, Hermione had wondered if she was taking advantage of Harry by not telling him what society would expect of them – that his dorm mates would have laughed at him if they ever saw him sitting in her lap – but she ultimately decided that she was doing them both a favor by keeping that knowledge to herself. Harry was freer by virtue of not knowing, and she wouldn't dare take that away from him. Better to let love evolve and flourish without intervention than to stunt its growth with tradition.

"Harry?" She asked, confident in the request she was about to make.

The wizard felt her soft voice resonate over his chest. "Hm?" He replied, stroking her neck. He was occasionally tickled by the kinky strands of hair cascading over his chest and stomach.

"Can we switch?" She murmured, dragging her fingers over his sides, listening for the sound of his breath hitching when she found a ticklish spot.

"You want to be the pillow?" He asked. He felt her nod. "Sure." They began to move.

Both sat up, and before taking their new positions, shared a long, lazy kiss – the kind that teetered on the very edge of unconsciousness. It was light and unhurried. They had all the time in the world.

As his face settled in near Hermione's chest, Harry noticed something. "I can hear your heartbeat." He smiled.

"I could hear yours, too. What's it sound like?" Hermione asked. Her eyes were closed, but her lips were fixed in the biggest smile her sleepy muscles would allow as she stroked her wizard's back.

"Like a heart, I suppose." He replied with a little shrug and a chuckle. He felt a bit silly giving such a plain and obvious answer.

"Are you sure?" Hermione playfully demanded. "Listen closer."

Harry pressed his ear against her chest focused on the sound.

"Har-ry, Har-ry, Har-ry." Hermione whispered, timing her words with her own heartbeats. Harry sniffed his appreciation for her joke, which prompted Hermione to giggle. "It loves you too. It loves having you close like this. It's a simple thing, but it makes me very happy."

"The feeling is mutual." The rumble of his voice tickled her chest. "The sound is really amazing somehow. Every time it beats, I feel more relaxed." Harry sighed. For some time, the two just lay together, feeling one another and listening to the beating of their hearts. At length, he sighed with deep, buzzing satisfaction. "I love you, Mione."

"Love you too, Harry." Hermione smiled and kissed the crown of Harry's head. Tomorrow was likely to be an important day. Whether Sirius got any closer to true freedom or not, she had something to look forward to - tomorrow night, she might ask to be the big spoon. And Harry would oblige.


End file.
